


Tiny Dancer

by naivesherlolly



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dancing, Dates, Death, Dinner, F/M, Fluff, Love, Murder, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:20:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 32,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23672197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naivesherlolly/pseuds/naivesherlolly
Summary: [Completed]Sherlock gets called to a dance studio, where a murder has taken place. Once again, he gets infatuated by the thrill of the rush, but not too caught up in his own world to miss an auburn haired dancer, alone in a practice room, dancing effortlessly to Tchaikovsky. In that moment, he became nearly, completely enamoured of her.But he had to remember his own words, the words he recited not only to The Woman, but to himself, 'sentiment is a chemical defect found on the losing side'.Albeit...there was something about the way she looked. The way she moved. The way she held herself.Was Sherlock going to risk, dare I say, feeling, for this woman? Well, I don't think he has much of a choice, if his heart has anything to do with it.§ Set after Season 4 (Sherrinford, Culverton Smith).§ I do not own Sherlock, all rights go to their respective owners, accept for my Original Character(s).§ Social Media aspects included.
Relationships: John Watson/Original Female Character(s), Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Sherlock Holmes/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	1. Murder.

**Author's Note:**

> So before you begin this book, I would just like to warn you that my writing is now much better. I have tried to sort a couple of the grammar errors out before publishing, but I do apologise if there are any mistakes!

_The dreary, boring day in London was about to get a whole lot more exciting as the murderer crept up the stairs of the Central London Dance Studio, getting ready to make a move on what would be his latest victim; and Sherlock's new case. What made things even better was that the murderer was experienced in his movements and actions, meaning more of a challenge for Sherlock and John._

_Making small, furtive movements through the darkened halls, the only source of light being the moon and some flickering street lamps coming through the ceiling-high windows, the murderer spotted the dancer through the small opening in the door, and smiled to himself. 'Just where I thought she would be. Let's see how she likes this for revenge' he thought to himself. You could tell that this man wasn't mentally stable, just by the fact that he was smiling at the very thought of ending this girl's life. But then again, doesn't every murderer enjoy this?_

_He was watching her, like a predator seeking it's prey; with eagle eyes. Her form, her features, everything that was making him want to end her even more. In his head, he decided she had been asking for it. 'I'm sure the world wouldn't miss one more lanky body from their streets. After all, I'm only here to avenge Lucy. This is the last person, and then, the world will have balance once more.'_

_Getting his timings right, he waited until she was faced away from the door so she wouldn't be able to see him. He quickly but quietly pulled open the door and stepped into the sweat-strewn room. The dancer kept her back to him, guzzling her water and stretching slowly, making the murderer's job very, very easy. Making sure his boots didn't squeak on the shiny floor underneath him, he treaded lightly across the room, still eyeing up the petite figure, now in front of him._

_Then one swipe. Because that was all it took for her to drop to the floor; a pool of blood starting to form underneath her. His work was done._

╰☆╮

Greg was sitting at his desk, his legs up on the surface, a chocolate doughnut in his hand. This was a usual stance to find him in, especially when there was nothing to do. The room was quiet, although you could hear the the other officers at work through the glass of the door and the walls.

As Greg went to take a bite out of his doughnut, Donovan opened the door, poked her head into the room, and spoke. "Sir, we've got a murder. Central London Dance studios. And I hate to say this, but I think you might want to bring _freak_ in. We can't find any evidence; _anywhere_."

"What do you mean? There has to be something. There can't just be nothing." He stated incredulously.

"Exactly what I said. But I went down there myself and they can't find anything. No fingerprints, no material, no footprints, no DNA, nothing." Donovan said, annoyed that they were going to have to bring _him_ in. Even though she didn't want to admit it, she knew that if anyone could find any single piece of evidence, it would be him; even if she didn't like his methods. Just because she hated him, didn't mean that he wasn't good at his job.

"Right, okay. Well I'll go and get the boys and I'll meet you there. Who's the victim, do we know yet?" Lestrade asked.

"Lydia Moreover, a dancer at the studio. Her throat was slit, no CCTV, but we have a couple of potential suspects. I'll update you at the crime scene."

"Okay, thank you." She started to walk out, but Lestrade quickly stopped her, "Oh, and Donovan?"

"Yes sir?"

"Please keep your insults to yourself. You know Sherlock is still having a hard time with Mary's death, and I don't think either him nor John would appreciate the jabs that you were no doubt going to make." Lestrade warned her. Obviously Donovan didn't like this, but Lestrade was her boss, so she had to do what he said.

Nobody knew _exactly_ what Donovan's problem with Sherlock was, but it all started on the second case that Sherlock worked with the police on. A few words were exchanged upon his arrival between himself and Donovan, but all that came of it was her stomping away and him left there with his smug smirk present.

_*Flashback*_

_Sherlock approached the sanctuary, flashing lights surrounding the building, and reflecting off his face. As he approached and ducked under the yellow tape, he was stopped by a woman with brown curly hair. He didn't think much of her, accept for the fact that she was trying to impress him, by the extra lip gloss she had on, and the way she subtly batted her eyelashes at him before speaking._

_"Hey. I heard you were the new detective around here." Sherlock knew what she was going to ask, but he let her go on anyway._

_"Consulting detective, actually." Sherlock tried to seem as cold as possible. 'Maybe that will put her off,' he thought._

_"What? Oh right yeah sorry. I'm Sergeant Sally Donovan. Anyway, I was just wondering if you'd like to go out for a drink sometime. I would say as friends, but we all know how that turns out, so why bother pretending?" She asked, twirling a curly lock of her hair around her left index finger._

_He bent down slightly, so that they were at equal eye level, and discreetly said, "I would, but I don't think your boyfriend, nor the officer over there," Sherlock pointed to a uniformed officer that was stood watching the pair with hawk eyes, "would be too happy with that. I think you have plenty of things to be getting on with, don't you?" With a smug smile on his face, he watched Donovan turn on her heel, and strut away from the coat clad detective._

_From that moment, on, she would never forget how Sherlock made her feel. Usually, he would feel the slightest tinge of guilt when he acted like that towards someone, but she was the exception. She had it coming, and she brought it upon herself._

*Present day*

Greg finished his doughnut, grabbed his keys and wallet and made his way outside, getting into his car and setting off. He just hoped that the man he was about to visit could help him with this case.

╰☆╮

As he pulled up to 221B Baker Street, he already knew that Sherlock would know he was there, so he ran inside, and while ascending the stairs, quickly greeted Mrs Hudson. Reaching the first floor, Greg was quick to burst through the door, knowing it would make no difference if he knocked or not.

"Gavin, I've told you, if it's below a seven, I don't want it." Sherlock sat in his chair, looking bored as ever.

"Come on, please...it's a murder and there's no evidence. Not any that we can find, anyway." Sherlock had risen from his seat and turned to look out the window, before returning his gaze to the Detective Inspector.

"Fine, I'll be over in ten minutes. Where did you say it was again?"

"Central London Dance Studio." Greg said, before remembering what Donovan had texted him on his way over. "The woman was working - presumably dancing - considering what she was wearing, late last night and had her throat slit." Greg informed the Consulting Detective.

"Good, you're getting better at this George. Keep up the good work." To this, the D.I. rolled his eyes, now used to Sherlock's harsh words. He still hoped that one day, he might actually hear his real name come from his mouth, but that was wishful thinking.

As they were walking out the door, John patted Greg's shoulder. "Don't worry. I'm sure he knows your actual name; I think he's just being a bit stubborn."

To which the detective inspector replied, "Oh trust me, I know."


	2. Swan Lake.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock visits the crime scene along with John, where he sees Melody for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From here on in, there are no edited chapters (from when I last wrote them), so please try to see past the awkward and, quite frankly embarrassing writing! Thank you.

Arriving at the crime scene, Sherlock jumped out of the cab as soon as it stopped and left John to pay the cabbie, as usual. The cab shortly drove away, leaving John to make his way over to the dance studio, Sherlock having already gone inside and most likely started without him. He opened the main door, and walked inside. Once in there, John took a look at his surroundings and realized that you must need some money to be able to dance here. In the cab on the way over, he had searched up the studio, and it was home to some of the best dancers in London, including Ballet, contemporary, and modern dance.

While John was making his own little deductions, Sherlock was crouched in front of the body that Lestrade had led him to, after greeting him at the door. Of course, he already knew all about this dance studio, seen as he had a hidden love for dancing.

"Lydia Moreover, 28-years-old, a jazz dancer. Late last night, she was working, and someone came in and slit her throat. No security footage, no DNA, no fingerprints, nothing. Well, nothing we can find, anyway." Lestrade informed him. "We haven't done a background check yet, so we don't know who has any odd connections to her."

Sherlock gave a hum of reply, and continued to examine the body that was led on the floor, face down, with a massive pool of blood just above her head. He noticed that John had walked in just a minute ago, so decided to acknowledge his presence. "John, did you notice anything?" He asked before adding, "Anything of importance?"

"Yes, actually. You have to be at least a little bit rich to practice at this place, so maybe she had enemies, who wanted money?"

"Good. That's good."

"You're being sarcastic, aren't you? I'm only asking because, well, I can never tell whether you're being serious or not."

"No, you actually did some good work today, John. Back to what you said, it makes sense that she would be rich, or at least her family, then she inherits the money. Based on the items in her bag, her family has money, and she lives off them. She has lots of very expensive items, even down to the hand sanitizer, and she wouldn't spend her hard earned money on something so petty. I think she may have been entitled, gotten on someone's wrong side, and ended up here, dead." Sherlock blurted out in a rush.

Lestrade nodded before walking over to the door. "Okay, well if you're finished here, i'll go back to the station and get up history records and get them over to you. Call me if you find anything useful."

Sherlock nodded and John tipped his head towards the Detective Inspector. The boys decided that it would be good to also make their way out, and to come back the next day to interview other people who were also working the night of the murder. They started walking down the hall on the second floor, when Sherlock abruptly stopped in his tracks. This caught John's attention, and he too stopped and walked back over to the detective. "Sherlock? Everything alright?" He questioned. When he didn't answer, John tried again. "Hello! Earth to Sherlock?"

What John didn't know, was what had caught Sherlock's eye. Or rather, _who_. He could hear the faint sound of Swan Lake by Tchaikovsky blasting through the speaks of the room he was looking into, so he thought that maybe he stopped to admire the music. But, inside that room, and evidently, what had caught Sherlock's attention, was a woman, ballet dancing. Effortlessly. Sherlock was completely mesmerized by her, causing him to block out the sound of John's voice, ignoring him. 

This feeling was new to him, foreign, even. He'd never felt like this before, and he didn't even know what he was feeling. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but if he had to take a guess, he would probably say affection. He shuddered slightly at the thought, but he still stayed emotionless on the outside, causing John to still be oblivious as to what was going on. Although, he did catch a glance at what Sherlock seemed to be looking at, and as soon as he did, Sherlock dragged him away from the window in the door so he couldn't make any assumptions, coming back to his senses, just about.

But of course, John had seen enough. And even though he couldn't quite believe it, what he saw in front of him was real. Sherlock had been distracted by a woman. Even in the middle of a case. The only time a woman had caught his attention was The Woman, and that was years ago. Of course, Janine doesn't count, because that was all planned. And as far and himself and Missus Hudson knew, Sherlock hadn't had any girlfriends prior to them knowing him.

So, it came as a shock when it looked like a girl that hadn't even tried, had caught his attention. And if he knew Sherlock, he would take his chance to speak to her tomorrow, being his usual cold self. Or maybe he wouldn't be. Maybe she would soften him up a bit. But John thought that would be very unlikely, because nobody could do that. _Nobody_. He was the only one who had gotten even close to doing that. Him and Mary, that is. But they didn't tend to speak about her too much recently.

Before they could leave, they were stopped by a voice. Donovan. Clearly she decided to ignore Greg's warnings, because she didn't hold back any of the insults. "Aww, pining over a girl now? Let's hope she doesn't become the next subject to your torture, i'd feel sorry for her if she had to listen to a _monster_ like you for hours on end with your mindless blabbering."

This time, unlike some others, he didn't deduce her, he just simply stated facts. "Aww, Donovan, are you still heartbroken enough from the time I rejected you that you feel as though you have to take it out on other people? You know, actually, while i'm here, I wanted to ask you something. As an outsider, what's your perspective on intelligence?" Donovan certainly didn't have anything to say to that, and so Sherlock strutted out of the building with his head held high.

Once they were back at the flat, John decided that it would be a good idea to talk to Sherlock about what happened at the dance studio. Of course, he would be discreet about it, but he wanted to try and get some information out of him. Although knowing that Sherlock would probably figure him out in mere minutes, he thought it was worth a try. John also knew that even if Sherlock did feel something that could possibly be close to what he felt for The Woman, he wouldn't know what it was. Because that's how Sherlock is in these situations. Even though he is a genius, he is completely oblivious when it comes to 'feeling things'.


	3. I think I'm going crazy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get a look into Melody's life while she and her best friend Hope discuss the murder.

The woman that Sherlock saw at the dance studio was currently sitting at home, with her Beagle, Charlie, curled up next to her on the sofa. Since she had her performance tomorrow night, she decided that it would be alright to have a glass of wine to treat herself. She also broke out her sketchbook, and started drawing random sights in her living room. The wall to her right was covered in Polaroids, postcards and photos of places that she'd traveled to, and venues that she'd previously danced at.

Just as she was finishing her latest drawing, her phone rang from the coffee table in front of her. She put down her glass and her pad, and picked up her phone to see who it was.

**Mum**

_Swipe to Accept_

Between extra shifts at the restaurant and rehearsals, she hadn't had much time to speak to her either of her parents, but now that her mother was phoning her, it was the perfect opportunity to catch up. So she swiped right, and held the phone up to her ear.

"Hi mum!" She can hear muffled words coming from the other side of the phone, but she doesn't know if it's her mum or not, so she tries again. "Helloo? Are you there mum?"

Finally, she gets an answer. _"Melody? Are you there?"_

"Yes mum, I'm here. Can you hear me?"

_"Yes well I can now! How are you my love?"_

"I'm doing good, I'm just chilling with Charlie at the moment and catching up on some drawing, how about you? Are you okay? And dad?"

 _"Oh yes dear, we're fine, I just wanted to check in on you before your big performance tomorrow night, see if the nerves have swallowed you whole!"_ Her mum said with a chuckle. She knows how nervous Melody can sometimes get before a big performance, and so every time she has one, her mother makes sure to check in on her if she and Melody's father can't make it.

Melody had a normal childhood, she excelled in everything from Drama to Math, and she had lots of friends. Her parents always spoiled her when they could, as they weren't a particularly wealthy family. But every time they could, they would treat her to some new ballet shoes, or a new book. That was another thing that she was, and still is, fond of. Reading.

She could sit for hours on end, just reading chapter after chapter of any book, from Romance to Horror to Mystery. She enjoyed the simple things in life, and that's what makes her likable. She's low maintenance.

Her flat has at least four places where there is a stack or shelf full of books, and she often finds herself buying more, even though she knows she shouldn't, and that she'll eventually run out of space, but she doesn't care. She would buy a whole other apartment if it meant that she could keep buying books.

"Ha ha, I'm actually doing okay for once. I'm feeling good about this performance, even though there was a murder in the studio and I was a bit thrown off, I managed to get some practice in."

_"What?! A murder! Who was it? Anyone you know?"_

"I sort of knew her, we weren't best friends, but I have my suspicions on who did it, although I'm probably just overthinking things."

_"Well, i'll give you some advice. Don't get involved and just focus on your dancing. I know it sounds selfish, but if you didn't have anything to do with it, and you didn't know her too well, there's no point in getting involved."_

"I know, that's why I've tried to take my mind off it. Anyway, i'll let you go, because I need to tidy up a bit and feed Charlie, and Hope is popping round in a bit, but i'll give you a call and tell you how it went afterwards if you want?"

 _"That would be wonderful, love. Good luck, and tell Hope to record as much as she can!"_ At that moment, Hope walked through the white front door of Melody's apartment and dropped her spare keys in the dish next to it.

"Well, you can tell her yourself, she's just walked in." She put the phone on speaker and told Hope what her mum had asked.

Hope jumped down onto the couch on the other side of Charlie, and replied. "Of course, i'll get as much as I can! How are you?"

_"I'm good thank you Hope, you doing alright dear?"_

"I'm good thanks Missus Winters."

_"That's good dear, well i'll let you both go, and i'll look forward to the videos tomorrow."_

"Okay mum, bye!" She hung up the phone, placed it back on the coffee table and picked up her wine glass again, and took a sip before Hope took it off her and also took a sip. "How rude, you could have just got your own glass, you know."

"Yeah but I only wanted a bit. Anyway, did you hear about Lydia? It's awful, what happened."

"I know, I was there practicing today, i'm surprised that they didn't lock down the whole building and that I was actually allowed in there, although I do regret trying to get a glimpse at the body, because I managed to and nearly made myself sick. It was horrible, Hope. Her throat was slit, and there was blood everywhere." Melody shivered as she recalled the sight.

"Jesus. Who do you think did it?"

"I don't know really. It could have been anyone, and maybe she just happened to be there. Imagine if i'd have stayed there just an hour later, I could have been the one murdered."

"Don't say that! Just be lucky you weren't the one. What about Lucy, the one that died a couple of months ago. Her father went round accusing all of those people, saying that they were the reason that she died."

"Who did he target?" Melody asked.

"Well Lydia was one of the people, which is why I think it's a bit suspicious that one minute he's blaming her, and the next, she's dead. And there was another person he accused, and he's dead as well. But then again, I think he's way too soft to kill someone."

"Well, I mean it sounds like he has a motive, and if he had enough of a reason to believe that he was doing the right thing, then maybe he could have done it. And i'd bet that Lucy killing herself would be a good enough reason."

"Damn, you're right. Are you doing some last minute practice tomorrow? Because they'll probably still be investigating, and they'll probably want to speak to you, seen as you were there the night she was murdered.Not as a suspect, but as a witness."

"Yeah, probably. I have to get in some last minute rehearsals in before tomorrow night. But I don't mind helping. I wasn't that close to Lydia, but I still hope they find the murderer."

"Anyway, enough about that morbid subject, I came over here to spend some quality time with my bestie. So, what shall we do?"

Melody responded immediately. "Watch gossip girl. I feel like I need some Chuck and Blair feels to get murder out of my head."

"You know Chuck kind of murders his father...right?"

"Well then we won't watch that episode then!" She joked.

"Fine, okay, fine, we can watch gossip girl, but as long as you promise not to speak all the way through it. I know I've already watched it, but it's annoying, and if I wanted a commentary, I would use the one that comes with the show." She scolded Melody. She was really bad for speaking through movie and TV shows, and it proves a problem if they're watching a movie at the cinema.

"I suppose I can dial it down a bit." She sighed dramatically before continuing. "Sheesh, the sacrifices I have to make for you. You know, I should win best friend of the year."

"In brackets 'Sike!'" Hope said.

"Yeah yeah, whatever."

~

After Sherlock's situation at the dance studio earlier today, he decided to look the woman up, and hopefully find out who she is. It's not often, if ever that he gets attracted to a woman, especially just by looks, so he was sure to not let this go until he found out exactly what he was feeling, and what he was going to do about it.

Lately, Sherlock found himself thinking more and more about his age, and the fact that he hasn't found anybody to start a family with yet. Even though people assume that he is this cold, emotionless person, he is in fact just like most normal people, in the aspect that he also want's to, at some point, settle down with a woman and have a family, and preferably not at the age of fifty. He was already 35, and he didn't want to wait too much longer to find someone that he could start a family with.

Of course, he wouldn't admit this to anyone, but he would be looking around, and maybe, just maybe, get onto the dating scene. God knows, he would never set up an account on one of those dating sites, but he wanted to start paying more attention to women.

Well, that's what he had planned to do, until the woman he saw dancing in the studio came along. And to think, she didn't even know who he was. God, he felt stupid for having a schoolboy crush on a girl. 'God, do I actually have a crush? That's a first', he thought. And Irene Adler definitely didn't count, as what he felt for her didn't actually conform to any of the feelings that he felt when he saw that woman today.

After 20 minutes of searching, he finally found her.

**PROFILE: MELODY RIVER WINTERS**

**AGE: THIRTY-FOUR**

**OCCUPATION: DANCER AT THE ROYAL BALLET SCHOOL AND WAITRESS AT MESTIZO**

**EDUCATION: COLLEGE, UNIVERSITY, DANCE SCHOOL**

**UPCOMING EVENTS: SWAN LAKE RECITAL AT THE ROYAL OPERA HOUSE, 04/06/19**

**MARITAL STATUS: SINGLE**

**RESIDENCE: 35A EUSTON ROAD**

When he read the last part, he nearly jumped for joy. Euston Road was the street adjoining to Baker Street, which meant that she didn't live that far away from him. He didn't quite know why he felt so happy about this fact, but he was just going to let himself be happy. After Mary, hell, after everything that's ever happened to him, he assumed that he deserved some kind of reward. And that reward was going to be his happiness.

He looked her up a little bit more, and found her Instagram, and that she'd just posted a new photo, so being his curious self, he decided to have a peak.

**@winter** **s** **_river**

_Rewatching Gossip Girl with Hope for the 65th time, safe to say I'm a hopeless romantic and I'm not even sorry_ 🤷‍♀️

**__HopeMason_, RBALondon_ ** _and_ **_2.3k_ ** _others liked._

_Comments:_  
 _@_HopeMason_ - I can't believe I actually consented to this...I think I'm going crazy._  
 _|_  
 _@username - shouldn't you be dancing?_  
 ** _> _**_@_ _winters_river_ _\- Yes, but I can have a break every now and then, can't I?_  
 _|_  
 _@username - I love your dancing, I can't wait to see you in your next performance tomorrow night!_  
 ** _> _**_@_ _winters_river_ _\- Thank you so much! I can't wait for you to see it! Hope you enjoy._  
 _|_  
 _@RBALondon - We can't wait to have you on our stage once again, see you soon and good luck!_ 💖  
 ** _> _**_@_ _winters_river_ _\- Thank you so much!_ 💕

See 1.9k comments...  
  
  


He gives a little smile at her post, and thinks if it would be okay to follow her. It wasn't like him to follow anyone, as he only used his account to stalk his clients and/or anyone else. But he then decided against it, as it could prove slightly awkward when he questions her tomorrow. He assumes that she will be in the studio tomorrow, rehearsing for her performance.

When he thinks about meeting her, he gets this weird feeling in his stomach, which he just puts down to having not eaten anything for a couple of days, because of course, he was on a case. Well, of course he wouldn't know that the reason behind that feeling is that he is just ever so slightly nervous to meet her tomorrow, and even if he did know, he would never acknowledge it. 

Because Sherlock Holmes doesn't have that kind of emotion, right?


	4. It's nothing, I'm fine.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock becomes nervous about questioning Melody in the build up to his and John's visit to the dance studio.

The day has finally come. Well, it's the next day, but for Sherlock, it feels like it's been years. Ever since he came to the realization that he would actually have to talk to Melody, he has been nervous ever since. It wasn't like him, but he also felt this excitement within him, knowing if everything went well, he may very well be looking at the....future Mrs Holmes? _No_ , he thought. _That's a bit too ambitious right now. Just take it easy. You've never even had a real girlfriend before, no real feelings, no experience with women at all._

Sherlock paced around the living room, muttering incoherent words of assurance to himself, while making sure he looked presentable in the golden framed mirror that hung on the wall. What he didn't see though, was John, standing in the doorway from the hall to the front room. He carried on as he had been, still not noticing the fact that he was being watched, too wrapped up in his own mind to observe.

Meanwhile, John was also in his own head, but thinking about the nervous wreck of a man in front of him. _What has gotten into him?_ , he thought. He knew that if Sherlock was this nervous about his looks and this nervous just to go question some people, then something had to be up. In the end, John just decided to be upfront and ask him what was going on.

"Sherlock, are you okay, mate? You seem a bit on edge..." He trailed off when Sherlock looked up at him, broken from his little trance. He didn't know what kind of mood Sherlock was in, so he also didn't know how he would react to his questioning.

What he got, was a little surprising, but relieving, as it wasn't an angry, nor witty response. In a way, it was a little unnerving, as he'd rarely, if ever, seen this side of Sherlock. All he heard, was Sherlock answer softly, "It's nothing, I'm fine, really." He was looking down at his shoes, as if they were the most interesting thing in the world, and right now, to him, they were.

John most certainly was not convinced by this answer, but he left it, knowing that he was not going to get anywhere if he badgered him right now. But he swore to himself that he would find out what was going on in the mind of the detective.

Once they managed to get a cab, they rode down to the studio in silence. When they pulled up outside of the studio, John was waiting for Sherlock to jump out of the cab eagerly, pulling out his wallet ready to pay. But to John's surprise for what had to be the third time today, Sherlock pulled out his wallet and paid the cabbie before getting out gracefully and walking into the grand building.

"Going somewhere else, mate?" Asked the man in front of the steering wheel. John muttered a small decline, slowly getting out of the cab and closing the door behind him. If he didn't suspect anything was the matter before, he definitely would now. Sherlock never paid the cab. He was always so eager to get started, that he always made John do it.

As John catches up with Sherlock, he can see the nervousness start to come back, as Sherlock wrung his hands tightly. He was also breathing deeply, and biting the inside of his cheek. John was starting to get quite worried about his best friends behavior. He hoped that whatever was that was causing him to act like this was over soon, because it certainly wasn't reassuring that the man who never got nervous, was this on edge.

They finally walk into the main dance area, where there are doors that lead into the separate studios. The one where the murder took place was still sealed off, and there were a couple of forensic inspectors walking around the room, hopelessly trying to extract more evidence, _which evidently, wasn't there_ , Sherlock thought for the first time that he wasn't thinking about Melody. 

All of this time, John had seen Sherlock fretting over something, but he didn't know what. He didn't know _who._ Melody was always on his mind. Ever since he found out who she was, he couldn't wait to meet her, to talk to her. But at the same time, he could wait forever, because he didn't know how he would act when he was nervous. He'd been nervous before, of course he had, but this...this was different. And he wasn't sure if it was a good different, or a bad different.

Sherlock walked around the circular hallway, looking inside all of the portholes of the doors, as though he was looking for someone. Once again, John was confused. But then again, he's either confused or he doesn't understand, so really, it was no different from usual. He eventually found out in the end anyway. Usually.

After a couple of seconds of searching, Sherlock finally skidded to a stop in front of a room which had a gold number nine attached onto the wood. "Right, now you've stopped whatever this," he gestured to the hot mess in front of him, "is, we should probably get onto the questioning."

Sherlock suddenly lost all of the nervousness that surrounded him, as if he'd turned off his emotions, and stood up tall. "Yes, let's start with this one." Sherlock said, with a small smile on his face. It was weird for John to see him smile, unless he had a particularly exciting case, but the case in question, wasn't all that different from what they normally did. But that smile was soon replaced by a bite of his lip. _What was going on with him?_

~

Melody had just walked into the studio, wanting to make sure she got everything perfect for her first solo performance since she was eight. She'd worked so hard to get this far, and now she finally had her break.

While walking through the building to get to studio number nine, she heard some people whispering in the shadows about a hot detective coming to question people about the murder. _Hot detective?_ She thought. _I doubt it. No one that works for the police are anywhere_ near _attractive enough to be described as 'hot'._

She just ignored them, keeping in mind that they might come round to speak to her. She wasn't particularly worried, but she wouldn't have much information to give them. Of course, she wasn't going to mention anything that she talked about with Hope the night before, as most, if not all of their theories were most likely wrong.

She was finally standing in front of the ninth mahogany door, and she quickly unlocked it and stepped into the room. With the hope of finalising her rehearsals, she quickly put her grey dance bag down in front of the large mirror which took up the whole front wall, and plugged the aux cord into her phone for the music.

It was only about one hour later that there were two brisk knocks at her door, and she found herself slightly frustrated with the interruption as she was trying to get everything perfect. But, she then remembered that the detective would be making rounds today, and that he could be here anytime. So, she quickly waved the knocker in, and was quite surprised by what she was greeted with.

The first person to enter the room had a short stature, with grey hair that had been precisely styled into a quiff. _If this was the hot detective they were talking about, they must have gotten the wrong person._ She thought. She didn't mean anything rude by it, but he was definitely not what she was expecting. 

But she was equally, if not a little more surprised when a second man entered the room. _Now he,_ she thought, _is definitely the hot detective. I mean, look at those cheekbones. And my god, the hair!_ She was finding the sight of the second detective quite appealing, and feared that he might distract her if she looked at him for too long. So, she focused her attention on the first man, slightly disappointed to not be faced with an equally as handsome face.

"Can I help you at all? I'm afraid I don't have much time to waste, as I have to rehearse for tonight. Big show, you see." She said while rubbing her hands together slowly.

"Uh, yes, you might be able to, actually. I'm John Watson and this is Sherlock Holmes, we're working with the police to find out what happened to Lydia Moreover a couple of nights ago." John spoke kindly to Melody, with a small smile on his face.

"OH! Of course, I heard some people talking about detectives coming in, i just didn't know you were private ones!" Melody said, eyes flickering back and forth between the two men, who had now fully walked into the room and were standing in front of her.

Melody couldn't help but mentally swoon over the taller man. I mean, who wouldn't find Sherlock Holmes incredibly satisfying to the eye?

~

He couldn't believe it. He was about to talk to her in real life. Sherlock was ever so slightly, completely amazed by her beauty. But he was soon broken out of his daze, by his best friend who was now internally questioning why his best friend was staring at the woman.

"Sherlock? Aren't you going to ask some questions?" He turned to Sherlock, before turning back to Melody and muttering an apology. "He's not always like this, sometimes he's just out of it."

Sherlock then asked her some boring questions, ones that she passed with flying colours, and that was that. It was a brief meeting as they had to question other people too.

Over the course of the questioning, he found that he still couldn't deduce her, but he decided that it was a good thing. He could get to know her the old fashioned way. By talking to her.

As himself and John are leaving the room, Sherlock turns back once his partner is out of sight, and hands Melody a piece of paper with his number on. "You can use this to contact me any time, should you remember anything important." He flashed her a cheeky smirk and a wink, before walking out of the room, feeling as confident as ever.

~

Melody blushed as she received the wink from Sherlock, and when they had both fully exited the room, she squealed slightly, and slipped the piece of paper into the back of her clear phone case.

Even though the detective had implied that it was for 'business purposes', she knew that there was a different intention to him giving her his number. _'Cocky bastard'_ , she thought, smiling and shaking her head. She was starting to like this man, even beyond his looks.

Melody decided that she would text him after the performance this evening, when she had the time to spare. But right now, she didn't and she knew that she couldn't spend too long fawning over McDreamy, or McSteamy, she couldn't decide which nickname suited him better. Was he a Derek, or a Mark?

 _'Derek,'_ she thought. _'It's the hair.'_

So all day, Melody slaved away, keeping her thoughts to dancing, until she was interrupted for the second time that morning, but this time, by Hope, who THANK GOD, brought coffee. Melody was going to need ten gallons of that liquid if she was going to survive through her busy day.

"Hey!" Hope greeted her while walking through the doors of the ninth studio room. "I am your savior, I brought coffee. No, no need to thank me, it's what i'm for. What was that? You want to buy me dinner? Why thank you, i'm flattered!"

Melody just rolled her eyes at the American girl's antics, she was surely used to it by now, after being friends with her for twelve years. "Oh, get off your high horse and give me the goods." It was quite safe to say that Melody had an addiction. To caffeine. Hope handed her the black coffee with two sugars, just the way she liked it, and also noticed how nervous Melody _wasn't_. Before every performance, she is always nervous, so why wasn't she now?

"So, what's got you in such a good mood? I expected to walk into a bundle of nerves that I call my best friend." Hope questioned.

Melody told her all about what happened, and many times she was interrupted with a gasp or a 'ooo, kinky.' But she hadn't heard what had happened last. "But you haven't heard the reason that i'm in such a good mood yet. So as the hot one was walking out, he turned around, and _gave me his number!"_

"What?! Holy Jesus this is amazing! Are you going to call him, have you texted him?" Hope kept firing questions at her, too fast for Melody to keep up.

"Hold on, just slow down, one thing at a time."

Hope calmed down a little and asked her question again. "Have you used his number yet?"

Melody knew that Hope wasn't going to like her answer, but she answered nonetheless. "Not yet bu-"

"What do you _mean_ 'not yet'?! How come you haven't made a move!" She knew that Hope would react this way, and not even let her finish her sentence.

"If you would just let me get to the end of my sentence, then I would explain why I haven't done so, yet." Melody took a breath before continuing. "For starters, he's still here questioning other people, second, I don't want to seem too eager, and third, I have this recital tonight, you know this, and I can't go distracting myself just before. So what I was going to do, was wait until after the show, and then send him a text."

Hope sat there, looking away dramatically in thought for a few seconds, before she came up with her verdict to Melody's plan. "Okay, seems legit." Melody just sat there with a frown on her face, but also chuckling.

This was going to be a loooong day. And night.

~

After they left Melody's studio, they went around to some others, until they were satisfied that they had all of the information they needed. Walking out of the studio, Sherlock walked with a spring in his step, and the slightest of smiles on his face, but John being John, could still see it.

Once they were back home, John decided to just be straight up and ask him. "Hey Sherlock, what was today about?" Sherlock turned around, confused at the slightly older man.

"What do you mean? It was just a-"

John cut him off before he could finish. "No, not the questioning itself, why you were so nervous about it. It's not like we haven't done it at least 100 times, most definitely more." He could see that Sherlock's face had gained a slight tinge of red, but he tried to hide it as best he could, by looking down at the floor.

"I wasn't nervous, John, I was just excited. You see, I think this case goes deeper than it looks. I don't think someone just did this on a whim, and I think it's also connected to something bigger. This is going to be a good case, John, I can feel it!" He shouted while bouncing off to his room. Sherlock was impressed by his own acting skills. Technically he wasn't lying, he was telling the truth about it possibly being something bigger, but he also didn't give John the answer that he wanted. He wasn't going to give himself away, not yet.

John seemed convinced, as when Sherlock came back out, he wasn't bombarded with more questions, instead, an empty living room. He just assumed that John had gone to pick up Rosie from pre-school, and didn't tell him. When Sherlock was trying to convince John, he had to make sure that it was believable. If you wrap a lie in the truth, then it's always more convincing. He didn't want to jeopardize his chances with Melody, and if that meant keeping her a secret from his best friend for the time being, then so be it.

Over the course of the day, he found that he was checking his phone every fifteen minutes to see if she has used his number. He hoped that she had gotten his little hidden message behind that wink, but maybe she hadn't. The thought disappointed him, but he wasn't going to give up hope yet. He also found himself thinking back to what he had told not only The Woman, but himself; _'Sentiment is a chemical defect found on the losing side.'_

He laughed silently to himself, slowly shaking his head at the sentence. He knew why he thought that, it was because he was scared of his feelings, but this time, he wasn't going to shy away from them. He had been through too much over the past few years, that he never let himself find happiness.

Now, he felt like he deserved it.


	5. Coffee?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and Melody exchange messages after he gave her his number at the questioning.

The next morning was now here, and Sherlock, despite not hearing anything from Melody the night before, got a good nights sleep. Probably the best one he has had in a long time. He shifted in his double bed slightly, finding that the thought of getting out of his comfy swamp of sheets seemed like a bad idea. For once, he fancied a lay-in.

After about an hour of just laying there, not even bothering to venture into his mind palace, he rolled over to his right bedside table and checked his phone that was currently charging, even though it was at full charge. Suddenly, a large grin spread across his face when he found a message from an unknown number, which read;

**Unknown**   
**Hey! Sorry for the late message, I just got done with my dance show, so this is the only free time I've had since then.**

He smiled at the first message, and then found that there was also a second one.

**I'm also assuming that you didn't give me this number just for business use, so would it be bad if I didn't use it for business?**

Sherlock was grateful that she got the message that he not-so-discreetly gave her the day before, as he would not have been able to just straight up ask her out.

_Who do you think he is?_

He immediately replied once he thought of a suitable answer.

**Hello to you too. Of course it wouldn't be bad, that is the reason I gave it to you, after all. -SH**

After he gave his reply, he finally decided to get up out of bed, pulling the sheet around his naked form. He sauntered into the kitchen as usual, startling John in the process by his unclothed demeanor. Sherlock sees the confused and vexed look on his face, and shoots a remark his way.

"Oh come on John, don't be a prude, it's not like this isn't a regular thing. And anyway, it's not like i'm stark naked, who do you think I am?" He stopped in his tracks as well as his speech for a second, before continuing. "Wait, don't answer that."

John just chuckled slightly at his best friend before saying, "I suppose half covered is better than nothing."

"Exactly, so stop giving me weird looks."

Sherlock made himself some tea before walking back into his room, one hand holding his sheet against his toned body, the other one carrying hot tea. He shut the door behind him gently, making sure he didn't spill the hot drink.

John was slightly confused, because Sherlock always drunk his tea out in the living room in the morning, and he rarely ever stayed in his room, even at night, when he is supposed to be sleeping. When he thought about it, Sherlock had actually been acting quite out of character for his usually sociopathic self recently, also pondering whether that was a bad thing or a good thing. 

Sherlock was back in his room, assuming the position he was in earlier, accept for the fact that he was now sat up, against the headboard, slowly sipping his tea, not caring about the burning sensation that came with it.

His bedroom wasn't terribly exciting, but it suited him. There weren't many decorations, only a large poster of the periodic table that was hung on the wall next to the worn out wooden door, and another poster of some Chinese writing above his bed. There was also a cabinet full of miscellaneous objects to the right of his bed.

He tried so hard to resist the urge to check his phone, not wanting to be too eager. But of course, even though his self control was good, he couldn't help but pick up his black iPhone from his bedside, and check it. The massive grin from earlier had resumed on his face as he saw that she had replied almost immediately after he'd sent his message.

He deduced that she must be as eager as him, and that it was okay that he was checking his phone every two minutes, because he had the comfort that she was at home doing the same. And he wasn't going to keep her waiting.

**Melody:**   
**So, you're a detective, huh?**

**Sherlock:**   
**Yes, a consulting detective, the only one. -SH**

_(As he always so kindly points out, if anyone goes anywhere near the topic)_

**How come you sign you initials at the end of your messages?**

**Why** **_don't_ ** **you? -SH**

**Good comeback, Mr. Holmes. -MW**

**Hey, do not make fun of the way I text! -SH**   
**...**   
**And please, call me Sherlock. Mr. Holmes is too formal. That's what people call my brother.**

**You have a brother?**

**Yes, an older brother and a younger sister, although she's locked up somewhere secure. A bit of a psychopath, you see -SH**

**You say that like it's normal. Although, in your line of work, I suppose that's a regular occurrence.**

**You would be surprised the amount of psychopaths I run into everyday. But enough about me, I want to know about you. -SH**

**Okay, what do you want to know?**

**Anything. What's your job? -SH**

**I think you can deduce that, Mr. Consulting Detective** 😉

**Well obviously a dancer, I knew that before, I just wanted to make conversation. Is your real name Melody? -SH**

**Is your real name Sherlock?**

**...No. -SH**

**Ooo, what is it then? I'm intrigued.**

**It's nothing too fancy, and i'm not telling you. I've only met you once.**

**Do you send your initials on the end of your messages to everyone?**

**Yes...why?**

**Well then i'm clearly special, because you've stopped sending them to me, which means that you're eager to respond, so you don't bother to waste your time with the extra letters. So, I think I deserve to know your full name, don't you?**

**...are you sure you aren't a detective? That was pretty clever.**

**So I was right?**   
**Is suppose you were.**   
**...**   
**...**   
**William Sherlock Scott Holmes.**

**What's wrong with that name? I love the name William!**

**It's boring. The name Sherlock is rare, which means that you're less likely to find another person with that name, and less likely to find another consulting detective.**

**I'm definitely calling you Will now.**

**I knew telling you was a bad idea.**

_Although he said this, his face had different ideas, for a big smile was on his face. Really, he loved the nickname. No one else called him that. That would be her nickname for him._ ****

**_(Melody changed 'Sherlock' to 'Will')_ **

**Tough. I like it. I'm assuming i'm the only one to call you that, so therefore that nickname is rare. I now realize that I sound slightly possessive over you, sorry!**

**No, it's fine, it's cute.**

**Cute?**

**...yes?**

**Aww, you just called me cute. I like it.**

**You know, seen as you have a nickname for me, it's only right that I have a nickname for you too. What's your middle name?**

**River.**

**Okay, I like it. I'll call you River.**

**Well, that was easy, I thought you might be a little more creative about it.**

**_(Will changed 'Melody' to 'River')_ **

**Not everything has to be clever, though.**

**No, I suppose it doesn't. How would you feel about meeting up for coffee today?**

**Why not?**

**Cool, where do you live?**

**Wait, I just realized that's a pretty creepy question.**

**And I already know the answer. I just looked you up, holy shit, you're bloody famous!**

**No i'm not, just quite popular with the police.**

**YOU FAKED YOUR OWN DEATH!**

**Is that a bad thing...?**

**Yes, but it doesn't bother me** 🤷‍♀️

**Good. Meet me at The Garage at 1.**

**Wait, how do you know where I live?**

**I looked up your address, it was surprisingly easy to find your address.**

**That is NOT good. Anyway, i'll see you there at one.**

**See you.**

At this point, Sherlock was basically jumping for joy, while still sat in his bed, which made John wonder what questionable things Sherlock was up to. That was, until the white door at the end of the hallway swung open, and he announced that he was going out for the day. "Don't wait up, I might possibly be late back!" This was one of the many days where he would go out, and leave behind a stumped John.

~

Melody, too, was practically bouncing off the walls. She was so surprised at herself for having the confidence to ask him out for coffee, but she didn't regret that she did. Even though she had only met him once, she had a good feeling about this man, despite the rumours that circulated the internet about him.

She looked at the clock on her white bedside table and saw that it was 10:30. "Damn, how long was I speaking to him for?" Deciding that she should probably stop being a lazy arse and get out of bed, she swung her legs over the edge and stretched her arms above her head, while emitting an obnoxiously loud yawn. Groggily standing up, she sorted out the mess of pristine white sheets that lay atop her bed, before sauntering into the bathroom attached to her room, and turned on the shower.

While doing so, she looked out of the window that was placed above her sink, noticing a man in a suit standing perfectly still on the street across the road. It looked like he was looking directly above, at her, but she just told herself that her mind was playing tricks, it's not like anybody was stalking her. _Right?_ She brushed it off, and walked back out to her bedroom to pick some clothes. She wanted to make an effort, after all, but she didn't want to look like she was off to the Met Gala or something. _It was only coffee._

Her bedroom was fairly large, with a white framed double bed sat in the middle against the back wall, two matching white bedside cabinets either side. At the foot of her bed was a grey material chair with a small wooden side table next to it, which she used for when she wanted to read in front of her fireplace that sat in the wall opposite. And the amount of succulents and plants in her room was astonishing. Of course, she was an excellent plant keeper, refusing to let any of them die unless she'd had them for more than 3 months.

To the left of the large fireplace, was a white double doored wardrobe. She walked over to it, and opened both of the doors with a swish, taking a quick overall glance at the hanging clothes, before sifting through them, trying to find the perfect outfit. Eventually, after five whole minutes of searching she pulled out a black floaty dress that came up to her knees, with a cropped denim jacket and black vans.

Jumping in and out of the shower in record time, she returned back to her bedroom, and made a start on getting ready. Her long auburn hair reached down to the bottom of her chest, the water making her hair look black. She sat on the edge of her bed, and blow dried her hair, taking one section at a time and rolling it in with her brush. Next, was makeup. Melody wasn't the type of girl to cake loads and loads of makeup on her face, so she always kept it simple. And last, was the outfit.

_Outfit link: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/322640760803726042/_

Melody checked her phone again, and saw that she had 45 minutes left until she needed to meet Sherlock. In the mean time, she decided that it would be a good idea to have a little freak out, so that she wouldn't do so in front of him. _Now that would be embarrassing._ She thought. First things first, _is it actually a date?_ They didn't actually confirm whether it was a date or not, so she just assumed that it was a friendly coffee meet-up. _Right?_ In some aspects, it could be seen as a date, but she wasn't going to jump to conclusions so easily.

She checked her phone once again, scolding herself for being so eager, but also realising that it was 12:50. She grabbed her black shoulder bag, her keys and her phone, and then walked out of her flat, locking the door behind her. As she was walking down the street, she could feel her nerves creep up her throat, but she swallowed them down, took a deep breath and pushed the door to the cafe open.

She didn't really know Sherlock all that well, but she didn't take him as one for being late, so she looked around the room that was filled with couples and children and friends and family, and when she looked to her right, she saw Sherlock sitting, looking over at her with a small smile on his face.

~ _listen to 'in my life' from the 'yesterday' soundtrack_ ~

Even though Sherlock had a cool and calm façade on the outside, the inside was something else. He was completely and utterly freaking out. He just thanked the lord that he didn't believe in that he could hide his emotions perfectly. He had absolutely no idea how this was going to turn out, and he could only hope that this meeting would go well. His sociopathic tendencies managed to get in the way of making friends nearly all of the time, and even though he didn't want to make friends most of the time, it wasn't the most convenient thing.

Melody walked over to his table and sat down across from him, making eye contact with a bright smile on her face. "Hey!" She spoke with nervousness covered up with enthusiasm, just as Sherlock was about to do, accept do a better job at hiding it.

"Hi." For a couple of seconds, they were both just looking at each other, smiling, not really being able to comprehend how quickly this had happened, when they had only met yesterday. Sherlock was the first person to break the deafening silence.   
"Uh- So! How long have you been dancing for?" He then realised how awkward of a question that was. "Oh, I'm so sorry, that was weird, forgive me, I haven't had much practice at this."

"Oh, don't worry! Heh, I uh, I'm a bit out of practice too, so don't worry about it."

Sherlock just chuckled slightly at her nervous state, before remembering that he was almost exactly the same. "Have you ever been in a relationship before?" He decided to just be himself. _Wait. Why am I trying to be myself? That is the opposite of what I should be doing._ He mentally facepalmed.

"Oh, no. Never. Mainly because I've always been solely focused on my work and I've never found anyone interesting enough that I actually want to spend more than a couple of hours a week with at a time. Well, except for Hope, my best friend, although she gets on my nerves too." They both shared a laugh, glad that it was getting more comfortable between them. "What about you? Ever had anyone?"

"No, not really. Just one woman that I used for a case, which now thinking back, I shouldn't have done, but it did get me where I needed to be to solve it. I, it's a long story, one for another time where you won't look at me weirdly for what I've done." He chuckled nervously, thinking back to what had happened in those eventful months around a year back. "I, too, have a best friend, John. He's the only person I can just about tolerate for more than half an hour, and his daughter, Rosie."

The two conversed back and forth for god knows how long, although it felt like time went by a fast as light beams from the street lamps for them. After around two hours of endless chatter, which surprisingly didn't bore Sherlock, he suggested that they take a walk, to which Melody agreed, both of them paying their side of the bill, and walking out of the cafe.

_listen to 'the long and winding road' from the 'yesterday' soundtrack_

Even after talking about any subject in the cafe for hours, conversation still flowed perfectly between them, with Sherlock telling Melody tales from his exciting cases, and her telling him about numerous dance shows that she'd performed in. They were both almost completely infatuated with each other, but neither of them really knowing it themselves. When Melody took a look at her watch, she realised that was very, very late. They'd been out for almost six hours, losing all sense of time, too busy being caught up in each other's company to notice how late it had gotten.

Sherlock, too, noticed the time, and offered to walk Melody home. She agreed, and was thankful for the company on her journey. It wasn't an inconvenience for Sherlock, as he only lived on the adjacent road, so he wasn't going out of his way. When they reach the front door of her flat, neither of them could help feeling slightly disappointed that their afternoon had to end.

Mustering up all of the courage that he could, Sherlock leant down and kissed her cheek, leaving Melody a blushing mess in front of him, and Sherlock a confident man. "Thank you, for a perfect afternoon. I really enjoyed myself, we should do this again sometime. Uh- that is- that is if- if you want to?" She questioned.

"I'd love to. I have to say, this is the most fun I've had while not being on a case, so thank you." Sherlock gave her a smile, which she returned, before walking up the steps to her flat. She put the key in the lock, and opened the door, but before she stepped through the threshold, she turned around and spoke up.

"I'll call you soon." Sherlock turned around from walking and smirked at her when she gave him a cheeky wink. The whole walk home, Sherlock had a massive grin on his face, not even bothering try to fight it off, and not caring if anyone sees. After all, even if he did try to wipe it off, he knew it wouldn't work. He was way too happy for it not to show.

And it was all because of her.

_Melody Winters. She is going to be the death of me._


	6. Delivery at 3 am.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John overhears a conversation between Sherlock and Melody, and a package arrives at 221b.

Since their coffee date one month ago (yes, it was evidently a date), they have seen each other quite a few more times. In total, they had gone for dinner at a fancy restaurant in central London, twice, had coffee in a different cafe, and surprisingly, Sherlock had agreed to go ice skating. Although, it was clear to Melody that he instantly regretted the decision the moment he walked onto the ice. Clearly, the one thing that he definitely was _not_ good at, was ice skating.

And at three o'clock in the morning, they were still on the phone.

One other thing that they had frequented, was talking on the phone. It didn't matter to them what they were talking about, and that much was obvious, because each of them would throw in some absurd topics to keep the conversation flowing smoothly, not that they had to try that hard to get along. It also didn't matter to either of them, the time that these phone calls took place. As long as they were speaking to each other, they didn't care about losing sleep.

Tonight, just like some other nights throughout the past month and a bit, John could hear Sherlock's muffled speaking through the floor. At first, he just assumed that he was speaking to himself, because really, it wouldn't be that hard to believe. Unlike other nights, this one he seemed to be overly cheerful, which perked Johns interest. So, tonight he decided to try and see if he could hear what Sherlock was speaking about.

He lightly crept down the stairs to the main floor of their flat, through the kitchen and down the hallway. He didn't dare stand too close to the door, for Sherlock would surely know that he was there if he got too close. He could work out some of the words that he was saying, and when he walked slightly closer to the door, Sherlock's words came out clearer. _'Oh, no, not that. Never again. I hated that so so much, it was such a bad idea.'_

_..._

_'What made you think that I could ice skate?'_

_..._

_'Huh, yes, well i'm glad that one of us enjoyed it.'_

_..._

_'No, that does not mean that we can do it again.'_

_..._

_'No, nope, you will not charm your way into making me endure that torture for the second time.'_

John was now positive that Sherlock was speaking to someone on the phone. The question now, was who? He had no idea who it could possibly be. _Who would have been ice skating with him?_ John thought that that person must have been pretty important to Sherlock to make him go ice skating.

At that moment, the doorbell sounded, and John quickly rushed down the hall, making sure to still tread lightly, so when Sherlock came out of his room, it would look like he had just woken up to the sound of the door. They bump into each other in the hallway, not needing to say anything to each other, also trying not to wake Mrs. Hudson. Sherlock walks in front of John, and slowly opens the black door, first peeking his head around the edge. When he was sure that there was no one outside, he opened the door wider, for John to see what was there.

_A box._

There, on the front step of the house, was a standard brown box, plain in its appearance, totally not looking sketchy. Sherlock slowly reaches out to pick it up, before John butts in. "What if it's a bomb?"

"It's not a bomb, I think I would know if it was. Oh, and I might not be trying to handle it, also." For a minute, both of their minds went back to a time when things were a little more simple, and they were trying to work out what significance the trainers that were left in 221C. Even though that time wasn't exactly easy, it was easier than what they had gone through recently.

They took the package back up to the flat, Sherlock carefully placing it down onto the coffee table that sat opposite the leather sofa at the back of the room. John retreated into the kitchen after turning on the lights, still being careful to not wake Mrs. Hudson or Rosie. He reached into the cutlery draw and pulled out a small, sharp knife to give to Sherlock, but as soon as he walked back into the living room, he saw that he already had the knife from the pile of letters on the mantle, cutting through the brown package tape that was holding the lids of the box together.

When he slit all the sides of the box, he hesitantly lifted each one up. What was in the box, surprised the both of them. It was a set of lingerie, black in color, sat folded up neatly at the bottom of the box. Confused, Sherlock pulled it out, and inspected it. He got that it was new, mainly because there were tags on it, but there was a slight scent of perfume, so it had to have been in a draw with things that have already been used. Obviously a woman's.

"Sherlock, what's the meaning of this?" John expected him to know what was going on, when in reality, he had no idea what any of this meant.

"For once, I really don't have a clue." Sherlock muttered. Then, John pointed down to the box again, noticing something that was left at the bottom. It was a note. Sherlock put his hand back into the box, and pulled out the note. When he turned it around, it read; _'Congratulations! ~S.'_

"I don't understand." _This phrase was starting to become part of Johns everyday vocabulary,_ Sherlock thought.

"I know who it's from, but not why he's sent it." For months, a certain criminal who he put behind bars, had been safely tucked up in prison, but he has since been released, and Sherlock knew exactly who he was coming for. _Him._

_'Stanton Hicks, one of London's most notorious criminals was, seven months ago, put behind bars by none other than the famous Sherlock Holmes. Holmes got a lot of praise for this action, from the public and officials on the case. This leads us to our next line of inquiry; who, or what, will he save next?'_

Sherlock wasn't too worried about Stanton, because he was an amateur criminal at best, therefore posing no threat to him, or the people around him. That was the main reason that his case was so short, and if he was being honest, which, lets face it, was nearly always, extremely boring. But, although Stanton himself was not strong, his men were a different story. They had tons of connections, and they were large in numbers, as well as body strength. The only reason they still worked for Stanton, was because the one thing he did have, was blackmail. He had incriminating information on every single one of them, and if they dared to leave his employment, he would reveal that information, making every last one of them, as good as dead. 

His thoughts, just for a moment, drifted off to Melody. Would she be in danger? They weren't in a proper relationship, but he was getting closer to her, which could put her in danger. All of a sudden, Sherlock gasped in realization. He finally realized what the 'present' meant. John looked over to Sherlock with a questioning gaze, his eyebrows furrowed. Sherlock just cleared his throat and slightly shook his head at the army doctor, indicating that he should just ignore him, as usual.

Sherlock's thoughts immediately went back to the item of clothing. Stanton must have assumed that because he was spending a lot of time with a woman, that he surely must be sleeping with her. But that was not the case, at all. Of course, Sherlock wouldn't mind if that was the case, but it wasn't. They hadn't even kissed, although they have had plenty of moments in which that if they chose to, they could have. But, they'd only met in September, and it was now December. They hadn't known each other for that long at all, so he was oblivious to why Stanton had jumped to that conclusion.

John's face, once again, held a confused expression, which Sherlock just ignored. He decided to keep his thoughts to himself, to save explaining something that he didn't want to. At least not right now. He wanted to keep his secret, secret, for as long as possible, or at least until the threat was under control.

After disposing of the item and the box, of course Sherlock kept the note, they both retreated back to their bedrooms. For a while, Sherlock just laid there in bed, pondering over the events of that night. Or morning, whichever way you want to look at it. Slowly, he drifted off into a light sleep, which of course wouldn't last that long, before he got up and went back to solving the case.

_His case._


	7. You're my person.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock visits Melody at her home.

The next morning, Sherlock woke up to silence. Absolute silence. Usually on a weekday like this one, he would wake up to Rosie crying, or John stomping about his bedroom upstairs, getting ready for work. But today; nothing. And he was thankful for that silence. Although he had a case, he stayed in bed for a least an hour, before he slowly got up and made his way to the kitchen to make some coffee. Of course, he wasn't going to eat anything, that would be stupid. _He was on a case._ Sherlock then walked into the living room, expecting to find John and Rosie there, but they were no where to be seen. Sherlock just assumed that they had gone out, but then heard John getting out of bed. He looked at the clock above the mirror, and saw that it was only 6:33am. _I really didn't get enough sleep,_ he thought.

After about 5 minutes of Sherlock sat in his chair, drinking coffee, staring into nothingness, John came moping down the stairs with a sleepy Rosie in his arms. "I did _not_ get enough sleep last night. That bloody package... I swear." He started to mutter incoherent things, which Sherlock just ignored, as always. When John had finished feeding Rosie, he handed her off to Sherlock, who took her to get dressed while John got himself ready for work. Sherlock actually enjoyed dressing Rosie, and they would pick out her outfits together, and sometimes Sherlock even let Rosie help him pick out his outfits, of course with guidance by him. Over the course of her so far - short life, Rosie had become quite clever, considering the fact that she had Mary for a mother, and Sherlock as her second father - basically. Anyone could see that she was more advanced than the normal toddler. Once he had finished getting her ready, he carried her down the stairs and into the living room, where John was ready, waiting to take her her to school, and then head off to work.

For the past couple of weeks, they had gotten into a routine, and one that surprisingly didn't drive Sherlock up the walls with boredom. It actually worked quite well, and it seemed as though they had ' _quite the little family going on_ ' according to Mrs. Hudson. Of course, they both kept having to remind the old lady that neither of them were gay, and that they most certainly weren't together, but ever since last Christmas, where Sherlock and John had to take part in an embarrassing game of seven minutes in heaven, she couldn't seem to let go of the fact that something had happened in that closet. But, of course, nothing had happened. Instead, when the door opened, the only thing that Molly saw was both of them looking down at some papers of their latest case that Sherlock had managed to smuggle in so that they would have something to keep themselves occupied. Sherlock was pointing his phone's flashlight in the direction of the stack when Molly flung the door open, hoping to catch them in the act. Everyone was at least a little disappointed when they found out that nothing had happened.

Sherlock waved both John and Rosie off as they exited the flat, and then walked over to the window to watch them walk down the street, Rosie skipping along the pavement while holding John's hand, and Sherlock had to admit that even he found that sweet. He smiled to himself, watching as the two figures walked off out of sight, and then turned around and started for his bedroom to go and get ready. When he walked in, he noticed that he had left his phone on the wooden beside table on charge, so he walked around his bed, picking up his phone from the surface. He clicked the black lock button on the side and held the screen to his face **(a/n: Snazzy, I know, but imagine being his phone, scanning his face everyday).** Upon opening his phone, he saw that he had a notification for twitter, so he clicked the icon and waited for the app to load. When it finally did, it said that Melody had tweeted. Pressing on it, he read what she had written.

**@winters_river**

_William better get his ass over here ASAP, I'm having withdrawals!_

_7:49AM - 06/08/19 -_ _ Twitter for iPhone _

He chuckled at her tweet, knowing that he was the only one who really knew what she meant. He decided to send her a quick text to tell her that he was on his way over. Sherlock didn't know why responded to her every beck and call, but he didn't mind doing it. There was no one that he had liked spending time with more, than Melody. Of course, there was John, but he was different.

**Hey, Love. I'll be over in 10 minutes. -SH**

After he sent the text, he got himself dressed into his purple shirt, which he thought about buying a new one of, but then decided against it, remembering what Melody said about her liking how tight it was **(a/n: I know what you're thinking, dirty minded people!!)**. He also remembered how much they had both blushed after she had said that, so much that he was even blushing thinking about it. When he finished getting ready, he strode into the living room, chucked on his coat and scarf, and walked down the stairs and outside, where he was pleasantly surprised by the fact that it was snowing, and he knew that Melody would be loving it.

He started thinking about some of the things that they could do that day. Since he started spending more time with Melody, he started rejecting some smaller cases, no longer needing to keep himself occupied by work every single minute of the day. It was a surprise to both John and Lestrade when he had turned down a Level 8 case, making the excuse that he wasn't in the right frame of mind to solve it, when in reality, it was because he had made plans with Melody already.

He started off on the short walk to Melody's house, stuffing his hands inside his pockets to try and conserve some warmth. When he got to the apartment building, he took his keys out of his pocket and put the key that she gave him into the lock, ad unlocked the main door. Melody heard the main door unlock, so she waltzed over to her front door and opened it. When she saw Sherlock stood there, covered in snow, she gave as squeal of delight, ran over to the window and threw her curtains open to reveal that it was in fact snowing.

Sherlock chuckled at her, while he stepped inside her flat and closed the door behind him. He took off his coat, scarf and shoes, and then walked over to the same window that Melody was stood in front of. She eventually looked up at him with a smile on her face, and turned to hug him. Usually, Sherlock wouldn't condone this type of physical affection, but he had to admit that Melody had changed him. When they broke apart, Melody walked into the kitchen to make them some tea, while Sherlock sat down on the sofa where Charlie was sleeping. When he sat down, he accidentally woke the dog up, which was when he noticed Sherlock, and proceeded to jump all over him.

Sherlock chucked at the dog, while petting him and trying to calm him down. Eventually, Charlie settled down on his lap, when Melody walked out of the kitchen with two cups of tea. She handed one to Sherlock while sitting down next to him, stroking her beloved pet in the process. Sherlock and Melody spent only an hour talking, when she suggested that they go out. Sherlock could see that she was excited to go and play in the snow, so he agree, no matter how cold it was.

After all, Melody basically had him wrapped around her little finger, and she didn't even know it.


	8. Their first time.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and Melody finally face their feelings towards one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut warning!! :) 
> 
> Also, please excuse the lack of experience with my writing of smut - not my strongest area, but I tried!

As Melody slowly started to gain consciousness, she realized that she had passed out the night before, after a very long day filled with throwing snowballs at Sherlock, shoveling snow in Sherlock's face, making Sherlock walk through the snowy hills with her. Come to think of it, there wasn't much that Melody did yesterday that didn't involve either Sherlock or snow. But she was glad about it. When she had finally found her bearings, she tried to get up, but realized that something was holding her down with a firm grip. Looking to her stomach, she tried to contain the small scream that was about to come out of her mouth, realizing that it was Sherlock's arm that was doing the holding. She instantly calmed down when she realized that she wasn't being attacked, but then quickly checked to make sure that they both still had their clothes on. It wasn't that she was drunk last night, but she always loved to jump to conclusions, so she had to check the facts first. She then remembered how she offered for Sherlock to stay over, and he reluctantly agreed after Melody told him that nothing would happen, and that it was only for one night.

She slowly turned around in his grip, ready to freak him out when he realized the position they were in. While he was still asleep, she took a good look at his face, focusing on all of the little imperfections that he, funnily enough, didn't actually have. In Melody's eyes, he was perfect. His face quite literally looked like it had been carved by the Gods, if there were any. Either that, or he just had really good genes. The latter sounded more likely, but anybody could be fooled into thinking otherwise. When Sherlock started to stir, the smile on her face broadened, and she was ready for him to go into shock, or something similar. Melody watched as she slowly opened his eyes, and quickly shut them again to get used to the light coming in through the blinds. When he finally fully opened them, he looked Melody straight in the eyes. She felt a shiver run down her spine as she made eye contact with him, and was slightly shocked when the only reaction she got out of him was a wide smile, while he shuffled closer to her, burying his head into the crook of her neck.

To say she was surprised was an understatement. She completely misjudged what his reaction would be, but nevertheless, she did the same, slowly drifting back into the warm slumber of his comfort.

~

Approximately two hours later, Melody woke up once more, but this time, to her disappointment, finding the other side of the bed empty. She assumed that Sherlock had to run off to a crime scene or something of the sort, but she understood that his work was his life, and that she would never take priority over that. Slowly sitting up, she waited for her sight to stop spinning before she stood up. Padding across the room, she opened the half closed door, to be greeted by Charlie jumping at her feet. She crouched down and gave him a pet, before he ran off into the kitchen. Melody was slightly confused at this, as he was never so eager to have his breakfast. So, she wandered after him into the kitchen, to find that it was not _his_ breakfast that he was so excited about. It was the breakfast that Sherlock was currently cooking on her stove. She stood there, slightly shocked for a minute, before she spoke. "I was under the impression that you had gone to work. I definitely didn't expect to see you cooking me breakfast." Sherlock chuckled at this, before turning around with the pan full of eggs in his hand.

"And who said that this was for you?" He questioned with a playful smirk, the one that made Melody's insides melt with affection. She then frowned at what he had said.

"I think the fact that this is my kitchen, and my food." She gave him a sarcastic smile. Sherlock chuckled at her, while plating up their food. "I didn't actually know that you could actually cook. I thought your specialties were burnt toast, frazzled Bacon and liquid eggs." She couldn't help but chuckle at his face when she said that. He had a deep frown on his face, but she could still see his playful side. That was what separated her from other people. She could see through him, even if he tried to hide himself. Even if he didn't want her to.

"Yes, well, I've been practicing." He gave her a boastful smile, puffing his chest out like a child would when they've done a good deed. In return, she looked down as a blush spread across her cheeks, and she started grinning like an idiot. He was so cute, and she was so lucky. When she looked back up, it was evident that Sherlock had seen her blush, because a light dust of pink was now covering his cheeks, but unlike her, one that he did not try to hide. They held eye contact for what felt like forever, but in reality, was only a couple of seconds, before Sherlock went back to dishing up the food.

Once he was done, he walked around the counter, and placed Melody's plate in front of her, giving her a small smile, and internally hoping that it was actually edible. He had managed to master the art of cooking simple things, and he hoped that it would be enough. And, of course it would be enough. Melody had never had anyone do this for her before, and so it felt nice that someone cared enough. Once they were both sat down, food and coffee in front of them, they started chatting casually about random things going on in their life, and even though Lestrade had called earlier this morning to inform Sherlock that a case had come up, he declined it. It wasn't every day that Melody invited him to sleep in her bed, and because she had done that, it had meant that he could surprise her with breakfast when she woke up, which he surprised himself by, when he did so, successfully.

Once they had finished, Sherlock went to take Melody's plate, but she stopped him with a hand on his wrist. She looked up at him, and was about to say something, when suddenly, he leaned forward and kissed her, fully, on the lips. It took Melody a few seconds to realize what was happening, before she quickly pulled away. She looked up at him, shocked for a minute, before she pulled him back to her forcefully, and kissed him back. She just couldn't help herself, and, evidently, neither could he. They both stayed like that for a minute, before Sherlock broke away, and just when she thought they were done, he grasped the backs of her thighs, and lifted her up, onto the island counter, continuing to make out. After a couple more moments, she asked for permission to deepen the kiss by swiping her tongue across his bottom lip, which he liked, judging by the small groan that came from the back of his throat when she did so. He accepted, and opened his mouth, but she was caught off guard when his tongue plunged into hers instead. She involuntarily moaned out loud, which made Sherlock smirk into the kiss. When he decided that there was too much space between them, he put a hand to the small of her back and swiftly pulled her into him. They both let out a moan when Melody's heat brushed against Sherlock's erection.

Sherlock slowly moved his hand between their bodies and started to rub Melody's clit through the material of her leggings. She broke the kiss to tilt her head back, letting out a breathy moan. In return, she also put her hand down between them and started rubbing his length through his trousers. He let his head drop down onto her shoulder, a deep groan coming from his chest. "Shall we move this to the bedroom?" Melody asked breathlessly. She hadn't been like this with a man in some time, and right now, all she wanted to do was be taken by Sherlock. He nodded, slightly out of breath before picking Melody up by her thighs, wrapping them around his waist. While he carried her to the bedroom, he started kissing her neck, trying to find her sweet spot. Entering the bedroom, he quickly found the bed, and lowered Melody onto it, being careful to not be too rough **(a/n: even though evidently in a minute that won't matter).**

Melody started to undo the buttons on Sherlock's purple shirt, her favorite one, and pushed it off his shoulders. Sherlock then tugged her white tank top over her head, lifting her slightly off the bed, and then throwing the offending garment behind him, making Melody chuckle, before another moan left her mouth as Sherlock found the sweet spot just under her ear. His fingers trailed down the side of her body ever so lightly, making her shudder in anticipation for what he was going to do next. Her question was answered when he curled his fingers around both the waistband of her leggings and her black lacy lingerie, and pulled them down in one swift motion, completely exposing the bottom half of her body. She assumed that she would feel vulnerable like this in front of Sherlock, but she didn't. She felt confident. The next to go, was her bra, which Sherlock surprisingly unclasped skillfully, and again, threw it onto the floor like it was lava. Now was the time that Melody felt slightly exposed, but as soon as she saw the look of complete and utter awe on Sherlock's face, she felt more sure of her decision to show herself.

Now that Melody was fully exposed, it was time that they evened that out, and so she reached down and started to undo the belt on Sherlock's trousers, making sure to take her time, to tease him. Clearly, he wasn't happy at the amount of time she was taking, as he let out a low growl and waved her hands away so that he could quickly undo it. Once he did, her hands took their place once again, and undid the button and zip, doing the same with his trousers and pants as he had done to hers. As she pulled both of the clothing articles down, his erection sprung free, and she marveled at the size of it. He got up and stepped out of the clothes, and then once again, resumed his position on top of her. First, he started out with kissing her, sensually. He slowly made his way down her body, leaving a trail of kisses over the hickeys that he had previously left on her neck, and down between her breasts, one of which he took in his hand, and gently squeezed it, making Melody arch her back slightly, and let out a strangled moan. She could feel him smirking against her skin at her reaction to his actions, but at that moment, she really couldn't care less.

Her breathing sped up when he got dangerously close to her lower area, and for a minute, nothing happened, but after a couple of seconds, he slowly leaned down and places a soft kiss on her clit, making her shudder and gasp for breath as he started to suck on it, swirling his tongue around her bud, making her let out a loud moan. Melody tangled her fingers into his hair and pulled him closer towards her center. Her grip on his curls made him moan deeply, the vibrations going through her, and she had to bite her lip so hard to stop from letting out any noise. Just when she thought she was getting comfortable, he unexpectedly plunged two fingers into her wetness, and she could not contain the loud moan that escaped her mouth. Sherlock continued to move his fingers in and out at a steady speed, while still sucking at her clit. "Sherlock...i'm not going t-to last much longer if you carry on like this." When she said this, he suddenly pulled away, and Melody whimpered softly at the loss of contact, but was content again when Sherlock came back up to kiss her, and she was able to taste herself on his tongue. She slowly removed herself from his grasp, and he was confused for a minute, before he saw that she had pulled out a condom from her bedside draw. She took the edge between her teeth and ripped it open, taking it out and leaning down to roll it onto his member. He slightly moaned at the feeling of her hands wrapped around him, before leaning down again.

"I need you, Melody. I have done for a while. But are you completely sure you want to do this?" He asked looking deeply into her eyes. Melody nodded, but Sherlock shook his head. "No, I need to hear you say it. Say you want me."

"I want you. Jesus, Sherlock, I need you." Melody looked back at him, into his gorgeous blue eyes, except the only difference from now than earlier, when they were lying in bed, was that his pupils were blown, and there was no barrier between them anymore. They were completely exposed, and in that moment, everything felt right. Everything felt natural. At her consent, he slowly pushed his hard member into her, both letting out loud groans, while Sherlock dropped his head onto her shoulder, she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him into her deeper, letting out a high pitched moan at the feeling of him hitting her g-spot. "Harder. Go harder Sherlock, please." She didn't have to ask twice, as he pulled out so that his tip was prodding her entrance, and with one hard thrust, he slammed into her, and the only thing that could be heard in the room for the next moments were loud moans and the sound of skin slapping against each other. After a couple more thrusts, both Sherlock and Melody reached their high, and quite loudly at that. Sherlock pulled out of Melody, and collapsed next to her.

They sat there for a couple of minutes, before they both burst out laughing. "That was...quite possibly the best orgasm...no, wait, the best overall sex I think I've ever had." Sherlock beamed at Melody, proud that he had given her the best sex she'd ever had. That was one heck of an achievement, for Sherlock, anyway.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her flush against his body, both of them drifting off into a peaceful sleep.


	9. None of your business.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and Melody get a little visit from an unwelcome guest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small smut warning!! Once again, sorry for the bad smut!

Just like yesterday, Melody woke up in Sherlock's arms, but there were a few differences. For one - they were naked. That was definitely not an occurrence this time yesterday morning. Number two - they hadn't had sex four times the previous day. After the first time yesterday morning, they continued to spend the day in bed, wrapped up in each other's arms, either sleeping, making love, or just led there, basking in each other's silence, and the comfort of one another's warmth. Now Melody came to think about it - she realized that once they had gotten undressed the first time, they didn't actually get dressed again. But she didn't care, she was content and happy with Sherlock.

Melody slowly peeled her eyes open from what was probably the best sleep of her life, and realized that she was led on Sherlock's bare chest - one hand spread across his torso, and her face buried in his neck. She snuggled in closer, only to hear a little, almost silent chuckle come from the body she was currently occupying. She slowly lifted her head up to meet Sherlock's eyes, which were gleaming with happiness, and it made Melody extremely happy to know that she was the root of it. "May I inquire what is so funny, my love?" She questioned, eyes playfully narrowed, while trying to fight the smirk off her face.

Sherlock's grin spread a bit wider, if that was even possible, at her pet name for him. "Oh, nothing in particular. Just thinking about how loud you managed to scream my name last night. Actually, come to think of it, all day yesterday!" Melody sarcastically chuckled before playfully swatting him on the chest.

"Now I'm definitely not helping you with your problem. You can take care of that all yourself." She cheekily grinned at him. Sherlock furrowed his eyebrows, confused as to what she was getting at. Melody caught on, and gave a glance down to his crotch area, where he had a surprisingly large morning wood. Now it was Sherlock's turn to narrow his eyes at Melody, as she still had a grin on her face. She tried to get up, but Sherlock pulled her straight back down, and on top of him. Once she looked into his eyes, he pulled a puppy face on her, which he knew worked on her every time. He didn't even have to be a genius to figure that out, albeit him working it out quicker than most would.

"You are so annoying. You're lucky I like you, otherwise I would have left you alone and desperate." Melody snorted in a very unladylike manner, but she didn't even acknowledge it. She then whispered something under her breath. _"That's what she said."_ Sherlock rolled his eyes at her, and then started chuckling himself. It was so like her to crack jokes at any moment, and he was sure that with every one, he was slowly falling more and more.

"Now, are you going to help me, or what?" The playful atmosphere disappeared, and lust now took over. Melody looked Sherlock in the eye.

"Yes, Mr Holmes. It would be my pleasure. Or yours - or both of ours." Melody held in a laugh at her comment - she really was on brilliant form with her humor this morning, it must have been the sex. While keeping eye contact with Sherlock, and not moving her body, she slowly reached down between them, and grabbed a hold of the erection that she could feel poking at her stomach. Instantly, Sherlock's eyes flew shut, his eyelids held tightly together. After a couple of seconds, he relaxed a little bit, letting his frown fall off his face, replacing it with the look of complete bliss. Melody got into a rhythm, pumping him at a regular pace - not too fast, not too slow. Sherlock's eyes opened, and his lips parted slightly, when he made eye contact with Melody. He mustered all the energy he could at this moment in time, and brought his hand to her neck, pulling her down to kiss her. The kiss was slow and passionate, one of complete love - even though both of them were currently oblivious to it.

After a little while, Melody's rhythm sped up, as she could feel and see that Sherlock was close to reaching his high. All of this time, they had either kept eye contact, or kissed, but when Sherlock reached his climax, he stretched his head back into the pillows he was lead on, and gritted his teeth together to stop any noise coming out, but when Melody swiped her thumb over the tip of his length, he couldn't help but moan out loud, which was exactly what she was aiming for. Sherlock held tightly onto Melody's arm as she helped him ride out his high, eventually his whole body going limp. "Was that helpful?" She asked him, grinning from ear to ear.

"Yes, very." He replied breathlessly, before flipping Melody over so that he was on top of her, and started leaving open mouthed kisses down her neck, making yet another new hickey. As his fingers slowly made their way down to her clit, they were interrupted by the doorbell. "Ignore it." He mumbled into her skin. Just as his fingers made contact, it rang again, so Melody pushed Sherlock off from on top of her, much to both of their dismay.

"Don't worry, it'll only be a cold caller. I'll tell them to bugger off and then you can continue where you left off." Melody said while putting on a pair of pants and Sherlock's purple shirt. He could feel himself getting hard again at the sight of her in his shirt, and not much else. Melody walked into the living room, getting greeted by Charlie. She felt bad for the dog yesterday, as she hadn't walked him, but she made sure to remember to actually get out of the house today. She made her way over to the front door, unlocking the two locks and then pulling it open. Behind the door, stood a man, and a very posh looking one, at that. He was wearing a grey three piece suit, pocket watch included, and what looked like a very expensive umbrella at his side. She now suddenly felt very exposed, just wearing Sherlock's shirt, as she was ready to just dismiss whoever was at the door, but she felt as though this wasn't just a cold caller. So, she tried to cover herself slightly with the door. "Um, can I help you?"

The man straightened with his words. "Yes, I think you can. Is Sherlock here?" Melody was taken aback by this question. How does this man know Sherlock? Ans how does he know that he's here?

"Y-yes he is. Actually, can I just ask - who are you?" Melody squinted her eyes at this mystery man, and the only thing she could work out about him was the fact that he was stubborn and stuck up. Sherlock had been teaching her a few tricks about observation, and she was a rapid learner, but this man was not a good example, because she could read next to nothing.

"I should think so. My name is Mycroft Holmes. I am-"

"Sherlock's brother." Melody breathed out in realization. Her eyes widened slightly. "Well come in, I'll go and get him, and don't mind Charlie, he doesn't bite."

Mycroft hesitantly stepped inside of her home, standing awkwardly in the middle of the living room, while Melody quickly walked into the bedroom, sliding through the crack in the door, so as not to expose Sherlock to his brother. "Who was it? Jehovah's Witness?" Sherlock asked, chuckling slightly. Melody just looked at him, and bit her lip slightly from anxiety. "What? What is it?"

"It wasn't a cold caller. It was your brother. And he's stood in my living room!" Melody whisper-exclaimed. Sherlock's eyes widened. He couldn't understand why his brother was here, and how he found out about Melody. But he then remembered that he's Mycroft - he knows everything. He is the world's wikipedia, and now, a stalker. Sherlock quickly got out of bed, and started to get dressed.

"I'm awfully sorry, but I'm going to need that shirt now." Sherlock said, smirking at Melody.

"Well, you'll have to come and get it, then." She said playfully. And Sherlock didn't need to be told twice. He slowly walked over to her and started to undo the buttons, sliding the shirt down her shoulders, kissing every bit of exposed skin. Melody bit her lip to stop from making any sound - that was the last thing that she wanted to do with Mycroft only a door away. "What are you playing at, darling? Trying to seduce me?" She smiled when Sherlock hummed in a positive response. "You're forgetting that we have a problem in the next room." Sherlock groaned at this, taking his lips away from her shoulder, and instead quickly giving Melody a peck on the lips, while fully taking the shirt off, and putting it on himself, leaving her naked. 

Once she was fully dressed, Sherlock opened the bedroom door, and walked out with Melody close behind him. "Good morning, brother mine. May I ask why on _earth_ you are here?" Sherlock gave a forced smile to Mycroft, who happily returned it.

"Well, early this morning, I got a call from John, saying that you hadn't been home for the past two nights. So I checked my surveillance...people, and they led me here. And clearly you've been... _busy._ " He spat out the last word, like it was poison on his tongue.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "It's not like John even _tried_ to call me, so really, he overreacted."

"He did say that he wondered why you had been away so often, and from your end of certain calls, I had my suspicions that you had a _certain someone..._ " Sherlock sat down next to Melody on her sofa, one arm resting on his now clothed leg, and another stretched behind Melody.

"Yes, Mycroft, and now that you've got your answer, you can go and tell John that I'm perfectly fine." He gestured towards the door, suggesting that he exit.

"Very well, brother mine." Mycroft turned to Melody. "I would say that it was a pleasure to meet you, but I feel that I would be lying." This struck a nerve in Sherlock, who swiftly got up and walked to the door, opening it and gesturing outside.

"And I would say that it has been good to see you, but then I _know_ that I would be lying." He gave Mycroft a very sarcastic smile before shutting the door right behind him. "And that, my love, is probably the most obnoxious man you will ever meet." Melody chuckled at Sherlock's overreaction, while he came and sat back down next to her. "But, I probably should get back, though. I've been gone for two days, and Scotland Yard is probably suffering without me."

"You should. I need to get a start on my new piece for Clair De Lune, and Hope texted to say that she would be coming over, and you know how she is, she will definitely sniff whatever this-" She gestured between them. "is, out." Both of them shared a laugh, before Sherlock gathered his things, and headed to the door. When he stepped out, he turned around to face Melody.

"We will talk more about this, won't we? Because I don't know about you," he leaned down, stealing a quick kiss, "but I would love to do this again. Preferably quite a few more times."

Melody smiled up at Sherlock. "Of course we will. Who knows, it might turn into something more than sex. Well, I hope it does, anyway." They both laughed again, before Sherlock started walking down the hallway, away from her flat, looking back, giving her a smile and a wave.

After he left, she closed the door behind her, and leaned back on it, smiling brightly.


	10. The Dinner Party.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melody organises a dinner party in order for Sherlock to get to know her friends, and Sherlock finally tells John about Melody.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possibly one of my favourite chapters - enjoy ;)

"Well, that has to be one of the most boring cases that we've had in months." Sherlock dropped dramatically down onto his chair after hanging his coat and scarf on the hooks. "I mean, come on. She murdered her brother because he stole her _hair gel?_ Absolutely pathetic." Cases had been on a low recently, so Sherlock was disappointed when what seemed like an exciting murder turned out to be a boring manslaughter. Above all of that, he had been trying to ignore Mycroft's nagging to tell John about Melody, because apparently 'he deserves to know.' Sherlock could see where Mycroft was coming from, but he was worried about what John might think of Melody. John's opinion meant a lot to him, but he didn't think he would be able to take it if he didn't like her. But, besides that, Sherlock knew that he should just get it over with. "John?" Sherlock questioned throughout the flat.

John's head popped round the kitchens sliding doors, his eyes looking at Sherlock expectantly. "Yes? What do you want?"

"Can I speak to you about something?" Sherlock tried but failed to hide the nerves in his voice, which John picked up on. He knew that something had been going on for a while, but he decided not to bother asking Sherlock about it, because he assumed correctly when he thought that he wouldn't get anything out of him. He knew that when Sherlock was ready to talk to him, he would. He hoped that this was the time.

"Yeah, sure." John replied, walking out of the kitchen with a cup of tea in his hand. He took a seat in his chair and went into listening mode, which had become a nearly permanent state when on cases and Sherlock needed someone to talk to.

"So...I- um, I have something that I need to tell you. And I'm not sure how you're going to react." The first thing that John picked up was that he stuttered at first. _Must be nervous,_ he thought. _About what, though?_ John nodded in acknowledgement, gesturing for Sherlock to carry on. His eyes widened slightly, and he carried on speaking. "Right, yes. Um..I..may....have a girlfriend." Sherlock muttered the last part so much that John couldn't hear what he actually said. Over the past week since Sherlock and Melody first had sex, they had been talking about whether they would officially be together, and after many conversations (quite a few of them after having sex), they came to the conclusion that they would have a go at publicly dating. But the word 'public' meant that other people would actually have to know about it, so Melody decided to get a group of her friends together, including Hope and some other people, so that she could introduce them to her new boyfriend. Sherlock had already met Hope many times before, and they had become fast friends.

The only thing that Melody asked of Sherlock was that he invite at least two of his friends, to which he reluctantly agreed. He decided that John and Molly would be the most suitable people, as Mycroft was out of the question, and Greg would just tease him and then go home and tell Mycroft everything. It was still slightly weird that Mycroft and Greg were living together, Sherlock having gotten over them dating a while back. "I'm sorry, you're going to have to repeat that a little louder." John smirked, knowing that Sherlock was purposely trying to cover up what he was saying.

Sherlock took a deep breath, and decided not to beat around the bush, and just tell him. "I have a girlfriend." When Sherlock looked up at John, he sat there, staring at Sherlock, a shocked look on his face, so he decided to give him some more details. "Her name is Melody, and she is a dancer. We've been dating for just under a week, but we've been friends for quite a while." Sherlock was starting to get a bit worried when John hadn't moved. _This is what it was like when he asked me to be his best man,_ Sherlock thought. After a couple of minutes had passed, John slowly started to come out of shock.

"Is this another Janine?" Sherlock's eyes widened at this question.

"No. Absolutely not. This is real. As real as it gets. I can't stress that enough." Sherlock didn't want John thinking that this was just another case, because that couldn't be further from the truth. He could even go as far as to say that he was feeling things along the lines of love, but he wouldn't admit that just yet. "So, what do you think?"

John contemplated again for a few minutes, before he looked up at Sherlock and smiled widely at the detective. "I'm happy for you. Really happy. I mean...I just- I can't believe that you've finally found yourself someone!" Sherlock smiled back at his friend, relieved that he took the news well.

"That's good. There was actually something I wanted to ask you as well." John gave Sherlock a skeptical look, but otherwise, he stayed quiet. "Melody is holding this dinner thing tonight for me to get to know her friends, and she wanted me to bring two people so that I wouldn't feel completely alone, and I thought that maybe you and Molly might like to come?"

"Of course I'll come, but are you sure that Molly is the best choice? I mean, she still has strong feelings for you, how will she react to you bring with someone else?" Sherlock thought for a moment.

"Who else, then? Mycroft and Greg are a bad idea, each of them alone is bad enough, imagine how much trouble they could cause together."

"There's no one else I can think of. Although, Molly did tell me that she met someone, so she could bring him, and then it wouldn't be as awkward?"

"Yes, that's a good idea. Okay, I'll call her now." Sherlock took his phone out of his jacket pocket and dialed Molly's number, putting the phone up to his ear. "Molly, I have a question...yes..no. Do you want to come to a dinner tonight?....at a restaurant.....lots of people. Well, not a lot, but I will be there, and so will John and my girlfriend and you can bring your ne-....yes, I did just say girlfriend, that's the whole reason for this dinner......yes, exactly. Okay, thank you, i'll-...yes I did just say thank you ...no, she hasn't drugged me. Look, i'm going now. Goodbye." Sherlock took the phone away from his ear, pressing the red button, then looked up at John. "She said she would love to come."

"Good. Well, I can't wait. What restaurant is it?"

"Mestizo. It's a little while from here, and she only lives on Euston road."

"Wait, isn't that literally over there?" John pointed behind Sherlock in the direction of the road. "And that's where you've been when you've been away?"

"Yes."

"Right."

"Okay."

"Good." They sat in silence for a minute before Sherlock got up and started walking to his room. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to get ready, you should too." He shouted before walking into his room and shutting the door behind him. An hour later, John had dropped Rosie down to Mrs Hudson and both of the boys had got ready. Sherlock had sent the details to Molly, and texted Melody to say that he was bringing people, which she was very happy about. Sherlock stood in front of the mirror on top of the mantel place in the living room, straightening his suit jacket, and checking to make sure that his purple shirt didn't have any creases in it. He slightly smirked, knowing that Melody would like that he wore this shirt. In the reflection, he could see that John was coming down the stairs, and silently thanked no one in particular that he didn't wear those blasted jumpers anymore, and instead had traded them for smart shirts. Something that he most likely got off Sherlock over the years of influence he had over John.

"You ready?" John asked as he walked into the living room to stand next to Sherlock.

"Just about. You?"

"Yes. I'm excited. Never thought I'd see the day that Sherlock Holmes got a girlfriend. A real one, that is." John smirked at Sherlock in the mirror, and Sherlock sent him a playful glare, but also a small smile. John's mind wandered to Mary for a minute. _She would be proud of him. I wish she could have seen this._ Sherlock noticed the slight change in John's demeanor, and knew what he was thinking about, so he changed the subject.

"There won't be too many people there, it's just a small gathering, and please, I'm counting on you _not_ embarrassing me tonight." Sherlock sent him a look, and John put his hands up in mock surrender.

"Cross my heart." He said while chuckling. Sherlock gave him a small nod, and then picked up his coat and scarf. They walked out of the flat, Sherlock out of the door first so that he could hail a cab while John told Mrs Hudson where they were going. She was very surprised to hear that they were going to dinner, and John being John didn't give any context, so she thought that they were going as a couple. After he had explained that it was with other people, he walked out, shutting the door behind him. Sherlock was already in the cab, and so John hopped in, and the black car drove away. On the ride, John noticed that Sherlock wouldn't stop fidgeting, even if ever so slightly. He decided not to say anything, because Sherlock would just dismiss it.

Once they pulled up, John was just about to get his wallet out, when for once, Sherlock paid the cab. John was very surprised for the second time tonight. When he got out of the cab, he could see that Melody had picked out quite a posh restaurant, and now felt sort of under dressed. Sherlock walked in front of him, and opened the door the restaurant, holding it open behind him for John, who did the same for a couple behind him. "Name?" The waiter asked.

"Winters." Sherlock replied.

"Right this way." The waiter led them to a table for 10. Two couples were already sat down, but they were quick to notice Sherlock and John coming over. One of the couples consisted of two men, Percy and Mitchell Bright, both lawyers. Percy was tall (half an inch shorter than Sherlock) and lean, and was clean shaven. Mitchell was a head smaller than Percy, but still in good shape. He had bright ginger hair that was neatly styled, and a full beard. The second couple was Jennie and Lucas Witheram. Jennie had dark brown hair, and was quite short in height. Lucas had dark brown, even black hair, and was quite a bit taller than Jennie, coming up a tiny bit taller than Sherlock. The height difference between the couple was about the same as between him and Melody.

Mitchell was the first to speak and offer his hand, as he was at the front of the four. "Ah, you must be Sherlock Holmes." Sherlock shook his hand. "We've heard so much about you. Melody was very excited for us all to meet you, and I must say I was as well. I saw yo-" he was then cut off by Percy.

"Darling, don't talk his ear off." Percy stepped in front of Mitchell, offering a hand which Sherlock shook. "I'm Percy, the sane one." Everybody laughed accept Mitchell, who sent a playful glare to Percy. John was surprised when Sherlock laughed an actual laugh. Not a forced one like he so often does, but a genuine laugh. _Melody must have really changed him._ The next person to speak was Jennie.

"Hello, it's lovely to see you again. Did Melody manage to drag you ice skating in the end?" She asked with a chuckle while going in to hug Sherlock, which he easily returned. So that was what the ice skating thing was about. It was clear to John that he was going to be in a permanent state of shock this evening.

Sherlock chuckled. "She did, and I'm never doing it again. It's okay for her, she's a professional dancer, but I, on the other hand, am not." At this point, Lucas cut in.

"Yes, and then Jennie was talking my ear off about 'doing something as a couple, like Melody and Sherlock were doing', even though we were spending the day together!" He chuckled as him and Sherlock did that bro-hug sort of thing **(a/n: that's the best name you're going to get for whatever it is they do)**.

"Well just know that I had no say in what we were doing, it was all Melody." Sherlock responded. As everyone was taking their seats, Melody and Hope walked in.

"Oh look, there they are! I'm surprised they weren't late!" Mitchell said. Jennie was the first one to get up and greet the two other women, before they all walked over to the table, Jennie taking her place next to Lucas. Sherlock got up to greet them both, going over to Hope first and taking the hug she offered.

"Hello Sherlock. I'm actually surprised that you turned up." Hope teased, gently punching him on the arm. He mocked hurt and narrowed his eyes.

"Well I wasn't going to miss it, was I? This was important to River, so of course I turned up. Where's Prim?" Hope rolled her eyes at Sherlock's question.

"He dumped me, the bastard. Said he met someone else, and then I catch him with Lucy who works in the patisserie down the road." Hope said, annoyed.

"Well he was a bastard before he dumped you, so nothing's changed, I suppose." Hope nodded, and then went to sit down. Sherlock then went over to Melody, who was speaking to John. He came up behind her, and draped his arms around her shoulders, bending down to kiss her cheek. "Hello, my love. Are you alright?"

Melody chuckled at him. "Hey, Will. I'm fine, are you okay?" She turned around in his arms to put her own around his torso. "I know this isn't really your sce-" Sherlock cut her off.

"I'm fine, darling. There aren't too many people, so I should be able to handle it." He gave her a sweet smile before bending down to kiss her on the lips. Then, there was a voice behind Sherlock, which made him break the kiss and turn around. It was Molly.

"Uh, hi." What shocked John and Sherlock, was that when she said she would bring her new partner, they didn't realize that it would be a woman. Sherlock was completely shocked that he didn't deduce that she liked women, but he quickly shook it off. John was the first one to speak.

"Hi, Molly. Who's this?" Molly turned to look at her girlfriend, and then back to John.

"This is Poppy James. My girlfriend." John was still flabbergasted when she actually confirmed that this was, in fact, her girlfriend. But she seemed nice enough, and both Sherlock and John were happy for her that she had found someone. Maybe the fact that she actually likes women was the reason that all of her previous relationships didn't work out. Or maybe she did just have a bad taste in men.

After the initial shock of the two men had worn off, they all took their seats, Melody in between Hope and Sherlock, John in between Sherlock and Molly, and Poppy in between Molly and Percy. Conversation flowed smoothly between everybody, and half way through the dinner, Melody reached under the table and found Sherlock's hand, intertwining their fingers together. Sherlock looked over at her, sending her a small smile, her returning with one of her own, while giving his hand a light squeeze. John had watched this entire exchange, and slightly melted inside at the couple.

"So, what does everybody do for work, then?" Mitchell asked, causing Percy to groan. Mitchell turned to him, a look of pure confusion on his face. "What? I'm trying to make conversation!"

"Yes, but darling, I really think you could've come up with something better than that." Percy said, putting a hand on Mitchell's shoulder. Hope then perked up.

"Well, I think it's a great idea. From what I know, we do actually have some interesting occupations around the table."

Melody then cut in. "I'll start. So for those of you who don't know, I work with the Royal Ballet school. I teach little children, and I'm also a ballet dancer for the Academy as well." John could have sworn that he'd recognized her from somewhere, but thinking that he probably didn't, he dropped his internal battle.

"Okay, I'll go next. I'm a director, kind of. I've only done small movies, but I get paid so it counts as my occupation." Hope said shrugging, while some people gave a small laugh.

"Okay, well seen as we seem to be going in circle, I am a surgeon, but I mainly work as a paramedic." Jennie started. John's ears perked up at this.

"Your a surgeon? That's funny, I'm a doctor. Well, army doctor." He said, incredulously.

"Really? Where were you stationed?"

"Afghanistan, actually." Jennie nodded her head in realization. "But I don't think I could do the paramedic thing everyday."

"Well, I couldn't imagine being in the war. I suppose that left you quite traumatized?"

"You cannot begin to imagine." John chuckled lightly.

"Okay, am I next?" Sherlock and Jennie nodded. "Okay, well I am a Veterinarian, have been ever since I got out of college, and I'm not going to tell you how long that's been." Everyone chuckled. 

Mitchell was the next one to speak. "Well Percy and I are both lawyers, that's actually how we met, on a case which, can I just say for the record, we were on opposite sides of, so I have no idea how this-" he pointed between himself and Percy, "happened. But, here we are."

It was now Poppy's turn, and both Sherlock and John were interested to know more about their close friends' girlfriend. "Oh, it's me. Right. Well, I actually work for the government. MI5, more specifically."

"Poppy James..." Sherlock murmured, before speaking up properly. "I knew that I knew you from somewhere. You work with my brother, don't you?"

Poppy nodded. "Indeed I do, Sherlock. And I have to say, you are a lot more tolerable than he is."

Sherlock scoffed, while taking a drink from his wine. "Well, that's not very hard, is it?" Melody whacked him on the arm. "Ow, what was that for?"

Melody paused for a moment. "I actually don't know, what you both said was completely true. I think it's just a reflex at this point." She shrugged, smiling. "Okay, I think it's Molly next."

"Oh, okay. Well, I work as a pathologist at St Bart's hospital. Poppy and I actually met when she came to look at a body." She said, giving a shy smile to Poppy.

"And last," Hope said. "Is Sherlock."

"Well, I think everybody here knows who I am, but I'll say it anyway. I am a consulting detective, and I work in connection with the police. And even though John works at the surgery, he helps me out on cases. Well, I mean, he wouldn't be able to survive without the adrenaline." He said, which everyone laughed at. _There's the Sherlock I know,_ John thought.

"So, when's the wedding?" Percy asked, causing Sherlock to slightly choke on his drink and for Melody to laugh at him, instead of helping him, of course.

"Calm down Percy," Sherlock said after he had recovered. "We're not quite there yet, we've only been dating for a little less than a week."

"Well sorry for being excited. But honestly, you two are the perfect couple. But from the newspapers, I didn't take you as the kind of man to have a girlfriend." This was when John cut in.

"Yes, I didn't either, and I've been his best friend for god knows how long." He said, chuckling.

"And how must that have been, tedious, I imagine..." John and Percy went on talking, while Sherlock and Melody broke off into their own conversation.

"How are you feeling? Are you enjoying yourself?" Melody asked, taking a hold of his hand again. 

"I...actually am enjoying myself. I didn't think I'd like it, _but,_ it turns out that it isn't as bad as I thought it would be. And I like your friends." Melody smiled at him.

"Well, that's good. Do you want to come back to mine tonight?" Melody asked cheekily, letting go of his hand to teasingly rub hers on his thigh. Sherlock shifted a little in his chair, grabbing her hand when it got slightly too high for his liking _in public._ As far as he was concerned, when they were at home, she could go as far as she liked.

"Of course, I don't need convincing." Sherlock winked at her, Melody giving him a cheeky smile in return, before they both returned to the conversation. Unbeknownst to the couple, Percy, Mitchell and John had been watching them with heart eyes. No matter how much John tried, he could not wrap his head around this being the same Sherlock that he knew. But evidently, it was. When it was time for everyone to leave, everybody said how nice tonight had been, and in Mitchell and Percy's case, how nice it was to meet Sherlock.

"John, I'm going to go back with Melody, if that's alright?" Sherlock asked. John just nodded at the couple.

"That's fine. It was so nice to meet you, Melody. I'm glad Sherlock found..." John trailed off for a minute, when realization hit him. "Wait a minute, I _do_ know you! You were one of the people we questioned for that murder months ago! I knew I recognized you from somewhere and..." Suddenly, everything made sense for John. The reason that Sherlock was so nervous to do questioning was because he was nervous about speaking to Melody, because he liked her. AND, because she was the person that he was looking at the first time they visited the crime scene. "Well, now everything makes sense." He chuckled, as did Sherlock and Melody.

"Well, now you've had your little realization, I think we should get going." Melody said, still laughing, looking from John to Sherlock.

"Yes, we must. I'll see you tomorrow, John." They both waved at him, catching the first cab that came past. John just stayed on the sidewalk, contemplating life.

His final thought, was; _that Hope woman was quite pretty. Maybe I should call her._


	11. Ambushed.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and Melody get a warning in the form of a message relayed through John.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So from now, the story line gets a bit rushed; sorry.

Sherlock just stood there. That's all he could do. Everyone else had already left, the burial already over. He didn't even try to stop the tears that were silently streaming down his face. Because _what was the point?_ He thought. In his mind, there was none. No point in even trying to stop his emotions, because he was completely and utterly broken. He wondered for a moment if this was what John felt like when he 'died.' Because if that was the case, then it was shit. This feeling of absolute numbness. Not even when he turned his emotions off, did he feel like this. The emptiness had completely consumed him in the past weeks, and the only thing he could do was stand there.

As for John, well he felt helpless. The only thing he could do was wait. Wait for Sherlock. Be there for him. Because in the end, that's all he could do. All Sherlock would _let_ him do. He wasn't used to seeing this side of him, he wasn't sure that anyone was. Not even Mycroft. Not even his parents. Not his _best friend._ And John would have left him alone, he would have. Had it not been a danger night. Well, it wasn't even a night. A danger month. A couple of months. So despite Sherlock's bouts of anger, his fits, his tantrums, John stayed. Because he couldn't let Sherlock spiral into the bottomless pit of drugs. Not again. Because it was going to be harder this time. It wasn't just boredom. In fact, it wasn't boredom at all. It was all of the emotion rushing around inside him. And even though Sherlock felt empty, even though he felt numb, he didn't want to feel _anything_. He didn't want to be alive if _she wasn't by his side._

This is her story. Melody's story.

~

_Seven months earlier - 27th of June 2019_

"What shall we name it?" Melody asked, her head resting on Sherlock's chest. Her hand intertwined with his, the tips of his fingers feathering over her knuckles. He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. This was what he wanted it to be like for the rest of his life. Small moments like this, scattered throughout his lifeline.

"If it's a girl - Freya, and if it's a boy - Luke," Sherlock whispered back. They were both on the brink of sleep, but forcing themselves to stay awake. This state of euphoria was the only place that either of them wanted to be. It was bliss, and it only existed between the two of them. "I'm actually very excited." He said in a hushed tone.

Melody let out a breathy laugh. "So am I. I wonder if Charlie will like them?"

"He will." Both Sherlock and Melody fell into a slumber, wrapped in each other's arms. Since the dinner party two weeks ago, Melody had been staying over at Sherlock's a bit more, now that John knew of her. Every so often, he would catch little looks or actions between the couple, and part of him refused to believe that what he was seeing was true. It was so unlike Sherlock, but happiness looked good on him. After everything that both of them had been through, at least one of them deserved to find happiness. The next morning, they woke up to Rosie climbing on their bed, trying to wiggle her way between them. Sherlock was the first one to stir, opening one eye. He didn't even question it when Melody, without opening her eyes, pulled Rosie under the covers between them and cuddled up to her. He just led back down and draped his arm over both of them and went back to sleep.

When John couldn't find Rosie, he slowly opened the door to Sherlock's room, not wanting to walk in on anything, to reveal the three of them all cuddled up together in his bed.

**Johnwatson221**  
Somewhere in that mess of blankets is Rosie...

_Tagged: sherlockholmes_   
_Winters_river_

**299 likes | 20 comments**

**Username_1** this is so cute!

 **Username_2** I knew Sherlock was with that woman!

 **hope_mason** ma best frieeends <3

Two hours later, Melody had finally woken up. She stretched her hands over her head and looked to her right, but neither Sherlock nor Rosie were there. She was confused for a minute but then heard laughing coming from the kitchen. She slowly got out of bed and walked through the hallway. Once she entered the room, she was greeted with a wonderful sight. Sherlock was sat at the table, Rosie on his lap, eating pancakes that by the state of the kitchen, they made. Rosie was the first to notice that Melody was in the room and started making grabby hands towards her, causing Sherlock to look up and notice her. "Auntie Melody! Come and eat the pancakes we made!" Shouted Rosie. Melody chuckled and slid into the seat next to the two.

"Are they any good? I don't really trust either of your cooking." She said, wearily eyeing them.

"They are surprisingly good. If they weren't, I wouldn't make you try them." Sherlock said, amusement in his voice. Melody took the fork out of his hand and picked a bit of pancake off his plate. She took a deep breath and prepared herself for the worst, but when she actually ate the piece, it wasn't half bad.

"I'm surprised. They're actually quite good!" Rosie clapped her hands together in excitement, before climbing off Sherlock's lap and going into the living room to play with her plastic cooking set. "You're getting better at cooking, I'm impressed." Melody said, taking Rosie's place on Sherlock's lap. "What time did you get up?"

"About an hour ago. Rosie woke me up because she was hungry. I don't even know why she was in our bed in the first place." Sherlock replied, resting his chin on Melody's shoulder. "But I didn't want to wake you, so I left you to sleep." Melody smiled as he placed a kiss on an exposed part of her shoulder. He continued doing so up her neck, along her jawline, until he got to her lips. The kiss was slow and passionate, not one full of lust, but one full of love, even if they didn't quite realise the love part yet.

"Eww, Uncle Sherlock and Auntie Melody are kissing!" Rosie shouted out. They pulled away, laughing at Rosie's reaction, as she did this every time she caught them. At that moment, John walked through the door, looking confused. "Daddy!" Rosie ran over to John, breaking him out of his state.

"Hello, darling. Are you okay?" Rosie nodded, before going off again to play after John had given her a kiss on the head.

"What is it? What happened?" Sherlock asked. He noticed the state that John was in when he walked through the door.

"Um, I- I just got sort of ambushed outside. This man in an all-black suit told me that I should tell you that you're in danger. Both of you." Sherlock's grip on Melody's waist tightened. He had been expecting this, but he hadn't been expecting Stanton to be coming after Melody too. He supposed that's what he got for not hiding his relationship properly. But he knew that Melody could handle herself if she needed to, and he certainly wasn't going to push away the best thing that's happened to him in years, since John.

Sherlock had briefed Melody on Stanton and warned her that he would be coming for him. He had also given Melody the chance to leave, to get away from the trouble that was about to occur. But, Melody refused. She swore that she was going to stand by Sherlock no matter what happened. Melody got up from her place on Sherlock's lap and threw on her coat, walking quickly down the stairs, Sherlock following almost immediately. Once Melody stepped out the door, she started looking around, up and down both sides of the street, and in the windows of buildings close by, yet there was nobody there, she thought it was a long shot anyway. "Melody? What are you looking for? Come back inside, you're not even dressed." Sherlock said from the door, chuckling slightly. He too was standing there in just his pyjama bottoms and a plain grey t-shirt.

Melody turned around and spotted Sherlock's attire, while noticing hers, laughing too. "I'm sorry, it's just that I though I might have been able to see whoever it was John spoke to, but it was a long shot I guess." She said, walking towards Sherlock.

"Don't apologise, you have nothing to be sorry for. You were just trying to look out for your friends."

Over the past two months, people close to Sherlock had seen a drastic change in his behaviour. Nobody could pinpoint the exact time that it happened, but there must have been one point when he just _changed._ Not everything differed, though. Sometimes he would make snarky comments at crime scenes if he hadn't seen Melody for a few days, but he was less insensitive, more thoughtful and caring. He would show his emotions slightly more, although _only slightly._ That was one thing that he was still trying to control.

For so long, Sherlock had buried his feelings deep into the depths of his mind palace, so rediscovering then all these years later through caring for Melody, was scary. It had all happened so fast for him, barely giving him time to comprehend the situation. Not that he cared. But he did worry that he would let too much show too quickly, and it would put not only him, but others around him in danger, should it be used against him.

But over the past few weeks, he had been a little more than careless. Completely forgetting about the threat coming from Stanton Hicks, he let his guard down half a centimetre too low, and gave the ex-convict the ammunition he needed to start his performance. That's right, a performance.

This was not a game. Not like Moriarty. This was a show in which Sherlock was the puppet, and Stanton was the puppet master. But, in the process, more people became puppets. Multiple people attached to one set of strings, clashing together. The question is;

Will they be able to survive the crash?


	12. Surprise, motherfucker!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and Melody visit Jennie and Lucas, but not without a threat.

After last weeks events, both Sherlock and Melody agreed that it would be safer to stick together, and because animals weren't allowed at 221B, Sherlock had been staying with her, while John and Rosie stayed at Baker Street with Mrs Hudson, and so far they hadn't noticed anything or anyone suspicious, but they couldn't be too careful.

The three adults plus Rosie were currently sat in the living room of 221B, where they usually met in the day. Today was one of those rare sunny days, and Sherlock and Melody were waiting to leave for Jennie and Lucas' house. Luckily, it didn't take Sherlock much convincing, as he had wanted to see Lucas anyway. John was proud of him for making new friends, both men and women. He thought that Melody was a stretch, even Hope (which he had gotten to know better since the dinner party.

"Are you ready to go?" Melody asked. Sherlock looked up and nodded, a small smile on his face, which seemed to be permanently stuck on there. Which was weird and out of character, but you could tell that he was truly happy and that it wasn't forced. If Sherlock were ever honest with anyone else or himself, even though there was the underlying threat that was Stanton Hicks, this was the happiest he had been in a _long time._ Even Mycroft could see that. As for Mycroft, even though he didn't make one of the best introductions to Melody, he was slightly proud that Sherlock had found a competent goldfish.

What he didn't know, was that with his future help, she would become much more than competent.

~

Sherlock and Melody arrived at The Witheram household for just afternoon. The sun was thankfully still shining, and the warmth of the atmosphere was just bearable. ****

After a couple of seconds, they could hear someone running to the front door, which swung open to reveal an out of breath Jennie, leaning against the open doorway. "Aha! You're early, I was counting on that. Come in, come in!" She ushered them in with her free hand while trying to calm her breathing down.

"Why are you so out of breath?" Melody asked, amused.

"Because I had to run from upstairs because Lucas was out in the garden and didn't hear the door," Jennie said, rolling her eyes as she led the couple through the house and into the large kitchen. On the opposite wall, there were large patio doors that lead out into the garden, where you could see Lucas tending to some meat on the barbecue. "Sherlock, I think he was waiting for you, said something about wanting to show you...I don't know, a-" Sherlock cut Jennie off.

"Ah, yes!" He walked off towards the garden, opening the door and greeting Lucas with a shout, causing him to turn his head towards the detective. Melody and Jennie just rolled their eyes.

"Men and their toys, am I right?" Melody asked while laughing. Jennie nodded her head. "So you said that there was something you wanted to tell me in person yesterday?"

"Oh, there was, is! Um, so you know how I was going on about 'starting a family' with Lucas, and he always changed the subject?" Melody nodded her head. "Well, I brought it up a couple of months ago, and this time, he seemed to have a change of heart, because he was totally up for it. So we started trying, and..." Jennie pulled out a positive pregnancy test, showing Melody. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped.

"You're joking! No way, congratulations!" Melody gave Jennie a massive hug. Pulling away, she asked; "Does Lucas know?" Jennie nodded her head towards the boys out in the garden, where Sherlock and Lucas were once again going in for a 'man hug', and it was safe to assume that Lucas had just told Sherlock the news. "Aww, I'm so happy for you!"

"Thank you! Now it's time for you and Sherlock! Percy and Mitchell adopted Jessica last year, and now I'm pregnant, you're the only couple left!" Melody laughed awkwardly, shaking her head.

"We've only just got together. We're not even living together properly. I don't think we would even have the time to be bringing up a child at this moment in time." Jennie raised her eyebrows at the Dancer. "Don't get me wrong, I would love to, you know, get married and have a child or two with Sherlock, but I just don't think that now's the time. We would both be majorly unprepared."

"Oh, I completely understand. How are things between you two then? Is he treating you right? Do I need to kick his ass?" Jennie said, raising one eyebrow.

"We're perfect, he's perfect. Out of everyone I've been with, even though that is a small number, he has made me the happiest by far." Melody said while looking out to him. As though he could feel her looking at him, he turned around at that exact moment, making eye contact with her. He winked and then turned back to look at what Lucas was showing him. Jennie, seeing the exchange, gave a fond smile to the couple, before turning around to the silver double-doored fridge.

"Do you want anything to drink? I've pretty much got everything..." Melody tuned Jennie out, focusing on some men that were coming towards the house. They were all dressed in black, aviator sunglasses over their eyes. Melody could deduce that they were all armed, and didn't expect to leave here without a fight. She briefly looked over to Sherlock with furrowed eyebrows, seeing that he had also noticed them. Melody then cut off Jennie.

"I need you to stay inside. I'll send Lucas in a minute. Sherlock and I need to take care of something." Jennie looked confused at Melody, before spotting the men outside, who had now come to a stop about 20 metres from the house. Melody made her way outside while passing Lucas who was on his way in, after being told by Sherlock to go inside and lock the doors. "Some of Stantons lot I'm guessing?"

"Yes, although why they're here, I don't know. Do you have your gun?" Melody took the weapon out of her dress pocket and held it up to him. "Good. I suspect they won't leave without trying to inflict some sort of damage, so be ready to fight." Melody nodded.

"Okay. Also, try not to let them get too close to the house, I don't want them anywhere near Jennie or Lucas." Melody stressed.

"Don't worry, we should be able to hold them off until Mycroft's men get here. I sent him the code word as soon as I saw them." The two of them slowly started walking towards the group of men, being sure to not provoke any of them. All of them were either bald or had shaved heads, and had matching tattoos on their neck, just under their ears.

In Stanton's organization, there were four different groups - The Clubs, the diamonds, the spades and the hearts. Each member of the group had matching tattoos, depending on which one they were in. These men were all part of the diamonds. Each group were equal in superiority, all reporting to the main boss, Stanton.

Sherlock had to admit, Hicks did have a complex running, but there were large flaws in most of his groups - weaknesses. There was always something that could sway them, persuade them. They were all susceptible to some degree, which made for a good fight, as Sherlock was always one for a good bargain. One of the reasons why Sherlock was good at his job - and just a skilled person in general, was because he could use both his brains and his strength. It was hard enough to find one of them in one person, but when you find both in one man - that must make him perfect to some degree.

Well, of course, if we were just focusing on his looks, and only his looks, then we could establish that he was perfect. From his chiselled jawline and cheekbones, to his curly locks styled to perfection (most likely without even trying) and those eyes, even burdened with heterochromia, still managed to take anyone's breath away. If one were to look into them for too long, they could most definitely get lost in those abysses. But then you add the skill of his brains into the mix - not just his intelligence, but also his wit and his charm, that is when he wanted to use it. Even though he was possibly one of the cleverest men of his time, he could be frightfully ignorant to some things right in front of him.

For example - love. That was a very large area that was coincidentally a large blind spot for Sherlock. Well, that was until Melody came into his life. Sherlock didn't think that he would ever find the right person to love, and if he did, he thought that she (yes, it would be a she) would be as clever as him, and married to her work. Not that Melody wasn't clever, because she was, but just not as clever as him.

"Afternoon, gentlemen. Lovely day, is it not?" Sherlock said, knowing that anything they said or did was going to provoke them, so why not have a little fun in the process?

"We're not here to talk. We're here to get rid of the threat." It was made very clear who the threat was when one of the men at the back of the group came charging towards the couple with a dagger. Not a knife, a proper dagger. Talk about medieval weapons. Sherlock was expecting to be mummified next.

The man came at Sherlock first, aiming the dagger directly at his face. Sherlock easily dodged the sharp point, grabbing onto the mans arm and twisting it around until he heard it crack, and then kneed the man in the side of the ribs. By the time he was done with that man, Melody was already taking on another, while the next one was moving onto him.

Man after man, Sherlock and Melody slowly incapacitated them all, while Jennie and Lucas were watching from inside the house, not daring to step out. Soon after, Mycroft's men intercepted, and all eight men were taken away, three of them dead. It was a miracle that neither Sherlock nor Melody had blood on them.

"How do you even get yourselves into situations like this?" Mycroft asked, walking over to the two, who had now been joined by Jennie and Lucas.

"I don't know. I honestly do not." Melody replied. "But I don't particularly enjoy having to fight off a group of tough men. It's just lucky that I know how to do it."

Sherlock gave Melody a side eyed look. "Yes, I still don't _quite_ know how you did that, but i'm just glad that you did know how to do it."

"Yes, right. Well, it's nice that you're...looking out for each other, and that you didn't get killed, but if you'll excuse me, I have some business to attend to." Sherlock gave a mock salute as soon as Mycroft's back was turned. Melody playfully hit him on the arm, before turning to Jennie and Lucas.

"I'm so sorry that you had to witness that, we had no idea that they would come today."

"Melody, it's fine. It was actually quite exciting, watching you fight bad guys. Obviously it would have been less exciting if you'd have gotten hurt, but you didn't, so it's fine." Melody could tell that Jennie was a bit shaken up after the events.

"Lucas, maybe you want to take Jennie back inside, get her a drink or something." Lucas nodded in understanding, thinking the exact same thing as Melody. He carefully led her back into the house, being sure to act gently around her. Melody expected that she hadn't seen anything like today's events before, so she didn't blame Jennie for being shocked. After all, she would be if she had been in her position. She just hoped that Sherlock wouldn't ask questions about today, and she hoped that she wouldn't have to lie to him.

Because telling him the truth, was not an option.


	13. Fake smile.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melody gets a visit from Stanton Hicks.

Melody led there, in bed. At this time of night, the ceiling seemed quite interesting. The swirling patterns, the uneven surface. Even the most simplest of designs, so intricate. Sherlock stirred slightly next to her, turning to face away from her, before setting back to sleep again.

She wasn't sure why she couldn't sleep, because it was usually Sherlock in this position. But tonight, the Insomnia took shelter in her mind, instead of his. And it sucked. At the end of the bed, led Luke, their new puppy. A Cavalier King Charles Spaniel. Melody was worried at first that Charlie wouldn't like him, and that they would have to take him back. Because frankly, she loved Luke almost as much as she loved Charlie.

And maybe also as much as she loved Sherlock.

Melody had been thinking about that for a while now. _Do I love Sherlock?_ That one question popping up at the most inappropriate of times. It was usually when she caught Sherlock doing something cute. Which, wasn't often, but more often around her. The answer had been floating around in her head for a while, but she didn't know if it was the right one. She needed _time._ Time to think things through. She couldn't just go telling him that she loved him, when she didn't even know if it was so.

And what if he didn't love her back? It was a miracle (apparently, according to John) that Sherlock even let Melody in in the first place. And to let her become that big of a part of his life, well, it was unheard of for Sherlock Holmes. But, Melody thought that it would stop at that. When Jennie asked about herself and Sherlock, and having children, Melody honestly didn't have a clue.

Of course, Melody wanted children at some point, and if she got to have them with Sherlock, then she would be the happiest woman in the world. But, she just couldn't imagine Sherlock wanting that. Loving each other, getting married (him proposing?!) and then having children. She just could not picture Sherlock wanting to have that sort of life, especially with how much it would interfere with his work.

 _But he gave up his work for me, so why would it be any different for children?_ She thought. _No, that's completely different._

After ten more minutes, the silence she was lying in was deafening her. Melody slowly sat up in bed, being careful not to wake up Sherlock, Charlie or Luke, and tiptoed lightly out the door. As she walked into the kitchen, she looked around the room, grimacing at how messy it was.

"I was wondering when you'd get up." Melody jumped a mile at the sound of another voice in the living room. "I knew you were awake, it was just a matter of how long." Oh, Melody knew exactly who this was.

"Well well well, if it isn't Stanton Hicks himself. Finally decided to stop hiding behind your men?" She made a fake pouty face at him, before returning serious. "What do you want? You clearly haven't come here just for a chat."

Stanton slowly shook his head, getting up off the sofa and dawdling towards Melody, stopping at a safe distance. "No, you're wrong. I have come here for a chat. It's just that...we're not going to chat here, where Sherlock is just in the bedroom over there," he pointed behind Melody, "and I also know for a fact that there are at least five cameras and two listening devices in this room alone."

Melody nodded her head. "You're right. So, where are heading to then?"

"We're just going to go for a little drive, won't take long, I just want you to be clear on some things before everything starts." Melody narrowed her eyes at the criminal (not so much) mastermind.

"So basically, you're going to drive me around and tell me to stay out of your little 'game' with Sherlock, or else he or I get hurt, or killed."

"Um...basically, yes." Stanton gave her the biggest fake grin he could muster, before turning on his heel and walking out of the door, expecting Melody to follow, which she did. _Damn my curiousity._

_~_

It was now 2 o'clock in the morning, and Stanton had been driving Melody around London for half an hour. She wondered if Sherlock had woken up and noticed that she was missing. He probably hadn't. As the car kept moving, she realised that they were going to a bad part of London. Of course, why would he not. Eventually, he turned onto an abandoned lot, about 45 minutes out of the city. As far as Melody could see, there was nothing around them. No buildings, no vehicles, nothing.

"So, do you know why I've brought you here?" Stanton turned around in the drivers seat to face Melody. He had a smirk on his face, his head tilted to one side, looking scrutinisingly at her. "I figured you would have some idea, seen as you're taking lessons from your _lovely boyfriend_."

"Of course I know why you've brought me here. I wouldn't need those lessons to figure it out. You want to talk to me, most likely ask me to do something that I won't want to do, and so you drove to this place, so if I try to escape, there isn't anything that I can run to." Melody spat out in just under 10 seconds. Stanton's eyebrows rose ever so slightly, almost a micro expression. In return she smirked, happy that she surprised him.

"Well, I must say, those lessons have come in handy. But I'll just get straight to what I wanted to ask you, or rather, order you, because it isn't a question...more of a command." Stanton still has the smirk on his face, while Melody's expression remained impassive. "Now, what I want you to do, is stay far, _far,_ away from Sherlock. You were never supposed to be here. I mean, when I was planning this last year, how could I have predicted that little Sherly would fall in love? That was very unfair on your part. So, what I need you to do, is leave. I don't care how you do it, kill yourself for all I care, but I will not let you interfere with my plan. I will execute it, and it will go smoothly."

Melody raised one eyebrow. "Fine." Stanton looked shocked for a moment, before regaining his composure.

"Really? Hm, I thought it would have taken more convincing, maybe a gun to your head...oh wait! You've been _trained_ to resist torture techniques. How is that going, by the way? Is Mycroft teaching you all of the tricks?" Stanton said smugly. No one was supposed to know about this, but it wasn't a surprise to her that he did.

"Yes, he is. But that is none of your business, as long as I do what you ask. Which is what I'm doing. So now, you can drop me back home, and we'll all be on our merry way." Melody said, a fake smile on her face. Stanton thought for a minute, before nodding his head and starting the car again. Once the headlights flickered on, they were on the move.

~

After getting out of the car, Melody made her way back into 221B, closing the door behind her quietly. It was still only 4 o'clock in the morning, and she didn't want to wake anyone. When she reached the flats door, she carefully twisted the knob, but before she could push it open, it swung back, revealing a disheveled Sherlock, who let out a sigh of relief at the sight of her. "Oh, thank god you're back. Where have you been?"

Melody gave Sherlock a small, convincing smile. "Just out. I needed to clear my head, so I went for a walk." Luckily for her, she was a good liar, otherwise Sherlock would have sniffed her out in two seconds. "Now come on," She said, reaching a hand out to Sherlock, "let's go to bed."


	14. Say goodbye...for now.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and Melody face Stanton for the last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry.

As Melody walked up the stairs, she could hear Sherlock rushing around, looking for something. She had just got back from her rehearsals, having neglected them for the past week. The boys were so close to finally solving the case of the dancer that was murdered, the time that Melody and Sherlock first met. It didn't feel like that long ago that it happened, but it had already been 9 months. Time flies by when you're trying to avoid a criminal. And keep a secret from those close to you.

"It was him! It was the brother! I knew it." Sherlock shouted as she walked into the room.

"Wait, what? It was Jackson?" Melody asked. She never would have suspected Lydia's brother. He always seemed so quiet, so...sweet. "Huh. I guess you never really know someone." _Hypocrite,_ she thought. She shook her head at herself.

Just as Melody was about to speak again, the doorbell rung, cutting her off. They all waited in silence, trying to listen to Mrs Hudson speak to the person at the front door, but they couldn't hear anything. After what felt like ten minutes had gone by, the door to the flat swung open to reveal two men in black uniforms, both with club tattoos on their necks.

"You have been ordered to come wiv' us. Boss said that we leave here wiv' you, conscious or unconscious. Your decision." Both of them waited for someone to say something.

"Which of us is it you've come to take?" Melody asked, seemingly unfazed by the men, but in reality, shitting herself, as she knew what was to happen today.

_It's all part of the plan._

"Both of ya's. The ova' one can stay 'ere." He pointed to John, who rolled his eyes.

"Thank you for very kindly sparing me. Although I do have a complaint-" John started sarcastically.

"-Yes, John thank you for your opinion, but I don't think they were really looking for it. Now if you'll excuse us, I think Stanton is expecting an appearance." Said Sherlock, standing up from the sofa and buttoning his suit jacket, while Melody put her coat on.

"There will be no need to restrain us, we'll happily come with you." She paused for a minute. "O-okay, well, maybe not happily, but we'll come nonetheless." Melody was sure that she was on the brink of hyperventilating, but she tried to keep calm. If she started freaking out too much, then Sherlock was sure to suspect something, and that could not happen. Not yet, at least.

Both Sherlock and Melody were escorted downstairs, making sure to stay close to each other the entire time. When they stepped out of the door, the first thing that Sherlock noticed was a large red SUV. _So as I thought, not an average criminal. Maybe more of a stupid one, then._ One of the men walked over to the back of the car and opened one of the rear doors. Melody slid in first, followed by Sherlock, who as analyzing everything as they went.

The ride to wherever they were meeting Stanton (well, that's what they both assumed they were doing) was a long one. Three hours of pure silence, except for the classical music that was playing on the car radio, and they finally arrived at the destination. Sherlock couldn't help but think that all of this was far too easy; there had to be a catch. Either Stanton was giving up, throwing in the towel, waving the white flag, or; neither him nor Melody were leaving alive.

You could probably take a guess as to which one Sherlock would prefer, and which one is most likely to come true.

Both of them got out of the car and started to follow the two men into the grey, run down building. By the looks of it, the structure was about to fall down, and all Stanton would have to do is leave them inside and wait for it to collapse above them. The clouds had started to crowd the already dull sky. _Setting the mood. Huh,_ Melody thought as she walked next to Sherlock.

They finally entered the building, noticing that the inside was just as worn down as the outside. If Sherlock had to rate every criminal, he would definitely not give Stanton more than a _4/10_ for his creativity. I mean, an abandoned warehouse? _So cliche,_ he thought. The men led the two through the warehouse for what seemed like forever, until they finally came across a metal door, isolated from any of the others. The bulkier man of the two twisted the doorknob, which let out an excruciating sound, and then pushed the door open.

The room was cast into complete darkness, except for the light coming in from the doorway, and through some cracks in the walls, where they had rotted away. The two men moved out of the way, a gesture for Melody and Sherlock to go into the room. So that's what they did. They probably shouldn't have, because that would be the move that sealed their fate, and in one way or another, they both knew it.

Both of them quickly turned around when the metal door was slammed shut, Melody silently cursing under her breath. Instead of trying to explore, they just stood in the middle of the room. Waiting. Waiting for something to happen, someone to speak. The only thing that filled the silence was the clicking of Sherlock's watch. The one that Melody had got him for his birthday.

He was surprised that she knew his birthday, but of course, Mycroft had told her. It seemed that Melody had become a favourite of his, which was very confusing for Sherlock. She had gotten the watch engraved, and he recalled the words scratched into the back casing.

_To my Consulting Detective,_   
_All my love,_   
_Melody x_

Melody thought that Sherlock might find it cringy, and she knew that he might not like the gift, but he did. Because in his eyes, _Melody could do no wrong._ Even if he usually wouldn't have condoned such an item, such a gesture, he made an exception for her.

Finally, a light in the corner of the room flicked on, revealing the one and only, _Stanton Hicks._

"What a lovely afternoon, isn't it?" He said with a grim smile, slowly standing up from the rusted-over metal chair. "I'm glad you came the easy way. Would have been _quite hard_ to speak to two unconscious bodies." With a slight laugh, he slowly made his way over to them. "So, I'm guessing you know why you're here. Especially you, you _naughty minx._ " He teased, looking over at Melody. She tried as hard as possible to keep a stone face.

 _How does he know about that...?_ She thought. _He can't possibly....oh. Of course. He knows_ ** _everything._** ****

"Why don't you enlighten us? Hmm? For those who _don't_ know." She questioned, moving her head slightly over to Sherlock's direction. She tried as hard as she could to play along with his little game, but she had to be careful, so as to not reveal too much information to Sherlock. It wasn't the right time. As for Stanton, she didn't doubt for a second that he knew everything.

"Ah yes. The clever consulting detective. Not so clever now, are we? It seems that you're the only one who doesn't know _exactly_ what's going to happen." He said before Melody cut in.

"Oh, I know _what's_ going to happen. What I don't know, is _how_ you're going to do it. So please, make it quick."

Play 𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 _by Freya Ridings ._

Stanton thought for a minute, debating whether to let her have her own way. In the end, he decided that it wouldn't really matter, as everything was going to end up the same whether he did it now, or in a couple of minutes. Slowly, he nodded his head. "Fine, Fine. If that's how you want it. Any last words?" He asked, pulling a silver gun out of his grey blazer.

Sherlock's eyes immediately widened, and he knew now exactly what was going to happen. "What, no! Why- why are you just letting him do this?" He shouted, looking over at Melody, who was just staring at the ground. Tears started to fill her eyes, as she slowly looked up at him.

"Because I love you. That's why. And if I don't do this, then both of us die anyway." She stepped closer to him, putting her hand on his cheek. "You're way to clever to die. People need you, the world _needs_ you." By now, tears were streaming down both of their faces.

Sherlock shook his head in disbelief. "No, no that is not the point. It doesn't matter what the world needs. Right now, it matter what I need, and for once I'm being selfish, because I _need you._ I don't just love you, I absolutely **_need you._** " Sherlock was not making this any easier for Melody. He had never spoken about her in such a way before, and she doubted that he had ever spoken to _anyone_ in that way.

"I- I'm sorry, I really am, but I need to do this. I have to. I don't have any choice now. And when I'm gone, I need you to carry on with your life. I need you to help people, and save people. _For me._ Will you do that? Can you?" She asked. Sherlock nodded, even though in his head, he was adamant that she wasn't going to die. "Thank you."

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath in. Slowly, she removed her hand from his cheek, the warmth vanishing from her palm, and she turned to Stanton, looking him straight in the eye. "You promise you're going to let him go after I die, yes?" He nodded his head, a smirk on his face. "No, no, I need you to _promise._ "

"Scout's honour." He said, holding his hand up. Melody nodded her head, although she knew that his promise was as good as shit. As Stanton brought his gun up to point at her, Sherlock stood in front of him.

"Isn't there some other way? Another way that doesn't involve you killing my girlfriend?" Melody shut her eyes again, more tears spilling out. He was just making this harder on both of them, but he didn't know that.

Stanton faked a frown and shook his head _sympathetically._ "Hmm, no. I'm sorry." He then forced a laugh. "Oh wait! I'm not." One of Stanton's men, this time with a spade on his neck, came to move Sherlock back, who struggled with all of his might against him.

"Stop please! You can't do this, you can't let him do this, Melody." She still had her eyes closed, and was just waiting for it to happen. She blocked everything out, and waited.

And waited.

Until it happened.

_Bang._

The move that everybody _but Sherlock_ had premeditated.

Because this was always how it was meant to end up.

Ever since the meeting.

_That meeting._

Where _he_ had told her that she would have to die for him. Whether that was in a week, or in ten years.

As long as she stayed with him, she was on a death sentence.

And there was nothing she could do about it.

So, she just waited. As she had done for 6 months. And eventually, it happened. But, she was prepared. Prepared for the emotional, and the physical pain. As Stanton and his men left the room, as he had promised, Melody dropped to her knees and held a hand to the gaping wound in the left side of her stomach, trying to stop the blood. Sherlock ran over to her as soon as he was let free, and skidded to a stop on the floor right next to her, also trying to stop the bleeding.

Frantically, he rushed to get his phone out of his pocket, dialling the first thing he could think of, which was an ambulance. "Y-Yes, I need an ambulance at 23 Mildred Square, we're in the abandoned warehouse, my girlfriend has been shot, and I don't think she has long, _so hurry._ " Shakily, he hung up and dialled the next number, _Mycroft._ And then Greg. And then John. 

And within minutes, his life changed forever.


	15. Why us?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock falls into bad habits after Melody's death. John snaps him out of it, and we get a look into Sherlock's life five months later.

The days all blurred into one. There was no telling what week it was, because it always felt like the day after it happened. The pain was still fresh in his mind, the moment the light disappeared from her eyes. The moment he knew, she was gone.

But of course, not really. At least, not in his drug filled fantasy land. There, she was still happy, alive, and by his side. He hadn't known the harsh, brutal reality of real life without her. Not yet. But at some point, he was going to have to snap out of it. Both John and Hope knew that he wouldn't be able to handle it, but he had to stop at some point. Both of them refused to let him kill himself over the grief. To them, it wasn't an option.

Of course, Hope had been informed straight away. When she was told, she too couldn't handle the news, so Melody's parents took her in, and they all grieved together.

Whereas Sherlock just isolated himself. He wouldn't let anybody see him, not even Mrs Hudson. Not even John. Because he just couldn't face anyone. Of course he knew that she was gone, but was he going to face it? No. He even admitted it to himself.

 _I. Am. A. Coward._ And in a way, he was. Because he didn't face his feelings. But who could blame him? People always assumed that the reason he didn't show emotion was because he didn't have any, when in reality, it was the opposite. He had too many to handle them. And when all of the grief, the sadness, the complete and utter despair piled on top of that, it sent him over the edge.

But he didn't care. Of course he didn't. Because _she wasn't there._ She wasn't next to him when he woke up in the mornings after he'd pumped himself full of drugs. She wasn't there to dance with him, even though there was no music. She wasn't there to randomly come behind him and hug him, even if he was in his mind palace, just to remind him that she was still there. She wasn't there to reassure him, whenever he doubted himself.

_She wasn't there, not anymore._

_And that broke him._

But he knew there was nothing he could do about it, so...that's where the drugs came in. Like a life jacket for the grief that he was drowning in. But that life jacket wouldn't save him. Not this time. In fact, it would only sink him further. But then there was the lifeboat. John and Hope. They decided that enough was enough, and that they weren't going to let him throw away the rest of his life.

"This is not what Melody would have wanted for you, mate. You know it's not." John said as he aimlessly walked around the cluttered living room, wanting to clean up, but not knowing where to start. Would he start with the coffee table littered with used needles and white power? Or the abandoned experiments in the kitchen that consisted of rotting eyeballs and a half decomposed head that smelt like the whole of London's waste? "You have to get yourself sorted, otherwise you won't have only lost Melody, but everyone, and everything."

"I can't, I just...I can't. I can't live in a world without her. This is why sentiment is _wrong._ I knew it all along, but I let it get in my way, I let _her_ get in my way. And you do know the worst-" Sherlock looked up from John for a minute, trying to keep the tears at bay. "Do you know the worst thing about it?" He looked back to John, who had stopped walking, and was just watching Sherlock. "The worst thing is that I don't regret it. I don't regret _her._ I would never."

John looked sympathetically at his friend, even though he knew that Sherlock despised being pitied. So he gathered all of his confidence, stood up straight, paced over to Sherlock, and gave him a firm slap to the face. "I know this hurts, trust me I do, but you need to snap out of it, get up and carry on living your life. If not for yourself, then for others who can't. _Her._ People aren't just going to keep giving you the benefit of the doubt some ten years after your girlfriend died. Which is why you need to do something about your problem _now._ Because I will not let you throw your life away because of this. I won't."

Sherlock looked at John for a minute, before nodding his head. "What was I thinking? Doing all of this?" He said in a small, soft voice. One that John had seldom heard in the entirety of his friendship with the consulting detective. "She would hate it. She would hate me. In fact, she probably does. She would probably have slapped me, just like you did, and tell me to get off my lazy arse and do something productive with my life." This was probably the most vulnerable side of Sherlock that John had seen, and he wasn't sure if he liked it.

Sherlock took a deep breath and rubbed his face, standing up and making his way towards the bathroom, albeit stumbling a little from the drugs that were still in his system. Before he disappeared into the hallway, he stopped and turned his head a little ways behind him. "Thank you, John."

John just stood there, watching as Sherlock walked into the bathroom. He had only heard him say it a handful of times, and it still shocked him. But nevertheless, he didn't dwell on it, but instead took another look around the room, before opening a bin liner, and getting to work. Within an hour, Hope was round, helping John carefully dispose of the drugs and experiments, and speaking with Sherlock, trying to keep his mind off of the withdrawal symptoms that were soon probably going to be rearing their ugly head.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_Five months later_ **

"Sir, there's someone here to see you. He says that you would know him?" A female police officer spoke, poking her head round the door to his office. He thought for a moment, before speaking.

"Okay, thank you, just send him in." The woman nodded, retreating from the doorway, closing the door behind her. A minute later, there was a knock. "Come in." The door opened to reveal Mike Stamford, who hadn't changed one bit. Still wearing the same beige coat and holding onto the same black leather briefcase as the day he introduced him to John. "Mike?"

"Hello, _Detective Inspector Holmes._ " Said Mike cheekily. "Gosh, I never thought i'd see the day where you actually ended up working for the police." Sherlock chuckled and shook his head slowly.

"I didn't think i'd see the day either, but after everything that happened, John and Hope thought that I needed something normal in my life, something stable, so Greg offered me his job, as he was getting promoted." Mike's eyes narrowed slightly in confusion.

"I've missed something, haven't I? What happened?" Sherlock took a deep breath. _Come on, it shouldn't be this hard to explain. It happened nearly half a year ago, get a grip._

"Um, my girlfriend, Melody, was murdered while we were on a case of sorts." Mike's eyes widened.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry, I had no ide-"

"No, no, it's fine. It was six months ago, so I'm getting over it. Slowly, but I'm getting there." Sherlock's office was silent for a couple of minutes, both of them saying nothing.

"So, how's John?"

"He's good, he's got a girlfriend now, Hope, which is actually Melody's best friend, so it kind of worked out well." Both men gave a small laugh. "Rosie is growing very fast. Even though I have no genetic attachment to her, I feel that she takes after me quite a lot in the development department. She's very clever, and extremely witty. To be honest, I don't think I would have been able to make it through any of this without her cheering me up."

"You sound different. You sound....normal. And I don't mean that in a bad way, but you've changed. A lot." Sherlock smiled a Stamford.

"I know. It's the emotions. They eventually got the better of me." He chuckled.

"Well, I'll let you get back to work. Say hello to John for me." Both of them stood up and walked over to the door. Sherlock opened the door and let Mike out, closing it softly behind him and walked back over to his desk, sitting in the leather chair behind it.

He couldn't help but think about what Mike had said. _'You've changed.'_ It was true, he had changed. And as he looked around his office at Scotland Yard, he realised that all of it, was because of Melody, who he wished he could just hold close, once more.


	16. I can't believe it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melody has one more surprise in store for Sherlock.

  
  
As Sherlock looked at the time on his laptop, he took a deep breath, rubbing his eyes. He hadn't slept in two days, and even though this case wasn't finished, he knew he needed to take a break. People had started to file into the office, ready to start the work day, as he packed up, ready to end it. His co-workers were used to his irregular hours, and often brought him coffee throughout the day if they knew he'd had a particularly late one. The only people that weren't particularly happy to have him as their boss were Donavon and Anderson, but they kept it to themselves, knowing what he'd been through in the last year and a half.

Since he'd seen Mike Stamford a year ago, a lot had happened. Stanton Hicks was found guilty of many crimes, including drug transportation, embezzlement and money laundering. When Sherlock had heard of this, he decided to report him for the murder of Melody. He hadn't thought to do it before, thinking that it would be impossible for the police to catch him. But, he was eventually charged with a life sentence (20 years, -5 for pleading guilty, along with his upstanding 24 years in prison). Sherlock thought of this as a win, as long as he didn't get out along the way. He would also try everything in his power to make sure that his sentence wouldn't get shortened and that he would never be let free.

Just as he was about to walk out of the building, he heard his name being called. "Sherlock! Hold up a second!" He turned around to see Greg speed walking towards him. "I've got something that you might like. I know you're going home, but I just wondered if you wanted to take a quick look?" Sherlock thought for a minute before nodding his head.

"Sure, I suppose I could." Greg turned around to face him while still walking.

"I remember the times when you would jump at a murder. Couldn't get enough of them. I guess times change, huh?" Sherlock gave a short smile, before focusing on where Greg was taking him. As they walked through the doors to the morgue, Sherlock could hear two women speaking. One of them was Molly, but the other one he couldn't quite figure out. He knew he recognised it from somewhere, but he just shook it off. It wasn't important. "This murder was particularly brutal, so hopefully you still have a strong stomach."

Just as they turned the corner, the two women speaking came into view. Sherlock being Sherlock, didn't acknowledge them in the slightest, instead going straight over to the cadaver. "Oh, h-hi Sherlock. I'm not sure if you've met-"

"I probably haven't, so let's just get introductions out of the way, as I would very much like to go hom-" As soon as he looked up from the body, Sherlock froze. Everything in his body had gone into shutdown mode at the sight in front of him.

There, standing next to Molly with a tearful look on her face, was Melody. Except, she wasn't Melody. Not anymore. She was different. She now had black hair as a posed to light brown, and she adorned all black clothing, a rod straight stance holding her up.

"Sherlock? What is it?" Molly asked with concern in her voice. Greg too was shocked to see that Melody was standing there alive. Everybody had thought her dead.

"No, no, I'm sorry, it's just me seeing things." Sherlock looked down, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. Looking back up, he realised that he wasn't in fact seeing things. She was really there. "Why?" He whispered. Clenching and unclenching his hands, trying to stop the tears from falling down his face, but failing miserably. Melody wasn't doing to well at keeping her emotions at bay either, with tears streaming down her cheeks.

Sherlock looked her up and down for a moment, before scoffing and turning around wiping his eyes. "Of course. _Mycroft._ " He spat.

"Sherlock plea-"

"No!" He shouted. "You do not get to walk in here like everything can go back..." He stopped speaking for a moment to try and get ahold of himself, as the crying had interrupted his speech. "You can't just walk in here and expect me to not be furious that you put me through this." Melody tom a few slow steps closer to him, so she was standing right in front of the literal love of her life.

"You..." Melody tried to start, but she had to calm herself down before she tried speaking. "You have to understand why I did it." She slowly lifted her hand up to meet his cheek. And as much as he didn't want to, his body involuntarily leaning into her touch. Closing his eyes, he was reminded of all the times that he craved her touch, and decided that he was never going to be without it again. He couldn't be without it again.

"Of course I understand." He breathed out. "But you have to understand that even though it was nearly two years ago, it still hurts." Melody nodded. "But I'll be dammed if I let you think that you're ever leaving me again. If you actually die, I will just...kill myself too. Because," he rested one hand on top of hers, and another on her cheek, his thumb brushing away her tears just as hers were brushing his away. "a world without you is not a world worth living in."

For the first time in what felt like an eternity for both of them, they slowly drifted towards each other, placing all of the passion that either one of them could muster, into the first of many future kisses. Pulling apart, they both looked into each other's eyes, before resting their foreheads against one another's.

In that moment, even after the events of the past, nothing mattered to he two of them, except for each other, and what was going to happen next.

"What do you say we go home?" Melody whispered to Sherlock cheekily. Greg and Molly left the morgue, giving the two some privacy.

"I'd say," he replied, snaking an arm around her waist, not stopping the grin that was forming on his face from actually being able to do that. "we should definitely go home. Shall we get some food as well?"

"Yes, we should. How would you feel about doing some catching up as well?" She said, a playful smile on her face, slowly sliding her hand down Sherlock's shirt covered torso. (a/n: before you ask, yes, if I don't say the colour of the shirt, please assume that it is purple).

"How would you feel if we got married?" Melody's hand halted to a stop just above his stomach, a confused look etched on her face.

"You're serious?" Sherlock smirked, letting go of her and reaching around his neck to get to the chain that had been sat there for the past year. On the end of it, was a gorgeous engagement ring.

"I was going to ask you a couple of days before...you know. But obviously I never got the chance. I'll have to thank Mycroft later. With multiple punches to the face. Anyway, I think now is as good as any time to do it." Sherlock slowly got down on one knee, holding up the now detached ring up. " Melody River Winters, will you do me the honour, finally, of becoming my wife?"

All Melody could do was stand there in shock for a moment. She was not expecting this on her return. Maybe a distant or angry Sherlock, but not a bloody proposal. But, she as the complaining. She had been through hell during her time away. Much like when Sherlock pulled the same stunt.

Sherlock's face turned cold again, as he realised that she wasn't answering. "Right, I see." He was starting to stand up again, but Melody held onto his shoulder.

"Of course I'll marry you, you bloody idiot."


	17. Clearing things up.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter of the series, and Melody clarifies things for Sherlock and they reach an agreement as a couple.

"I did actually die." Lying in Sherlock's embrace, Melody spoke gently, trying to ease him into the subject. He had to find out how she did it at some point, and she figured now was the best time. "For four minutes, I was technically dead."

Sherlock shifted his position next to her so that he could see her face. "What do you mean? How would that have even worked? I stayed with..." Sherlock hesitated slightly, finding the subject uncomfortable. "I stayed with your for longer than that." Melody shook her head.

"They took you away just before. Then Mycroft's men-"

"Mycroft's men? This was because of him?" Sherlock sat up, removing his grip from Melody. "I should have known that this was his plan, not yours." He scoffed shaking his head. Melody also sat up next to him.

"Of course it was his plan. Do you think I'd voluntarily make you go through that? Do you think I'd make _myself_ go through that? I was just as unhappy with it." There was silence between the two for a minute. "I had to go through with it, because he said that if I didn't, he would make sure that I permanently disappeared from your life. That, compared to being able to see you again at some point, was worse. So of course I took his offer."

Sherlock exhaled deeply, sadness seeping onto his face. "The worst thing is that it really does sound exactly like him. And I would say that I couldn't believe it, but I really can." He dropped his head into his hands, willing the emotions to go away. But they wouldn't. Since everything that had happened, he hadn't been as in control of his emotions as he had been in the past.

"I'm so sorry. If I'd had a choice, I never would have left you." Melody draped her arms around Sherlock's shoulders, resting her head next to his. Sherlock slowly lifted a hand to grasp one of her arms, rubbing his thumb over her exposed skin. Gently, he started to trail kisses up to her shoulder, turning around in the sheets so he could carry on up her soft neck. Melody kept a firm grip on his shoulders, deciding that she wasn't going to let go any time soon. She tilted her head to give Sherlock better access, relishing the touch of his hands gliding up and down her sides.

Sherlock's grip travelled down to her hips, giving them a small squeeze, which Melody took as a direction, lifting herself off the bed, and swinging one leg round so that she was sitting on his lap. He stopped his ministrations on her neck, and met her lips with his own. By now, Melody could feel Sherlock's erection through his boxers, so she slowly rubbed herself against it, emitting a deep groan from him. Sherlock quickly flipped the both of them around, so that he was now on top of Melody, and started travelling down her body, leaving small kisses all the way, until he finally got down to his favourite part.

~~

As the sunset streamed through the curtains of Sherlock's apartment, everything seemed quiet again. Everything seemed back to normal. And in a way, it was. But there were things that had changed. Like Sherlock getting a detective inspector title at Scotland Yard, and Melody now being a fully trained assassin. But it was okay, because they were both safe, and alive.

As Sherlock made tea, Melody was curled up in his chair, her head resting on one of the arms, and her feet tucked under her small frame. Melody was first to break the silence with a gasp. "Where's Charlie?" She asked, perking her head up, eyebrows furrowed. Sherlock chuckled at her question, and the fact that she had only just remembered about him.

"He's at your apartment. I asked John to take him back there when I found out you were still alive, so that I could have you to myself for a few hours." He gave her a side look with a smirk and saw that she had sat up in the chair, with a smile on her face.

"That's sweet. I'm glad you know that I would choose Charlie over you every time." Melody teased. Sherlock had a fake scowl on his face while he was giving her the tea he'd made. "So you've actually been looking after him these past couple of years then? I thought you would have gotten bored of him and taken him to a shelter or handed him off to Hope."

"No, no, I could never get rid of Charlie. In fact, I'm pretty sure that I love him more than I love you. And that's saying something." Melody fake gasped and reached out her leg to lightly kick him from where she was sitting, while Sherlock sipped his tea with a smirk on his face. "You know I'm joking. But, I have to say, he is basically my child now. I feel like I could actually look after a baby now that I have experience from Rosie and a dog." Melody guffawed at this, before suddenly stopping.

"Is that..." She tried to find the right words, without making her question sound disapproving. "Is that your way of telling me that you would like to have a baby?" Sherlock thought for a minute, before looking back up at her with a smile on his face.

"I think so, yes. I mean, we're already engaged, so I don't see the harm in it." Melody smiled widely at him, which he returned.

"Okay then. Let's do it. But first, think think we should go and get the pooch, he probably misses his mummy." Melody said while Sherlock just chuckled as he got up from John's chair and stood in front of her.

"I'm really glad that we've decided to do this. I'm obviously scared, but excited." Melody reached up and wrapped her arms around Sherlock's neck, embracing him tightly.

"Me too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here you have it. The end of Sherlock and Melody's story. Thank you all for reading! :)


End file.
